


Would It Fucking Kill You?

by LanternJawedStudmuffin



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Aromantic, Asexuality Spectrum, Bullying, Casual Sex, Closeted Character, Drug Addiction, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Hook-Up, Inappropriate Use of Motorcycles, Leather Kink, Light BDSM, M/M, Many Hurt Feelings, Marathon Sex, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Premature Ejaculation, Promiscuous Roxas, Sexual Tension, So Much Sex Like Holy Shit, Unclear Relationship Boundaries, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 177,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanternJawedStudmuffin/pseuds/LanternJawedStudmuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axel was just bored enough to flirt with the telemarketer. Roxas just wanted to make a sale.</p><p>Hooking up wasn't part of the plan from the start, and things were never supposed to get this fucking complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Worst (Best) Opener Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of background about how this story came to be: The majority of Axel/Roxas we've written in the past (and it's a lot) has characterized Roxas as inexperienced with sex, initially cold to being touched, and either questioning or in denial about his sexuality. 
> 
> So, the prompt that started this was literally just Stud (who writes Roxas) wanting to try writing him as sexually aware and sexually driven, for once. Enjoy your smut, everyone!

The drab grey walls of a call center cubicle were going to be the last thing he ever saw. It was a grim thought, one that Roxas glared down head-on. The final sound he’d hear would be another  _click_  of a phone hanging up, followed by the droning whine of a dial tone. They would find him glassy-eyed and hunched over at his desk in a few hours, when they noticed it was time for his shift to end, tragically deceased from boredom.

Maybe they would sigh and put the day’s paltry earnings towards a funeral for him. More likely, they would call in the janitorial staff and, with embarrassment, admit to each other that they didn’t even remember the name of that anti-social kid who only worked part-time. Such was life.

That was fair, anyway, given that every member of the faculty was pretty much a mass of face and a vaguely distinctive voice. While there was no set uniform, the rigid dress code and average age of the workers all meant that there weren’t many distinguishing features on anyone – himself included. In a last ditch effort, once, he’d tried throwing on a checkered tie, but it hadn’t made him feel any more like  _himself_.

This job was crushing his soul.

And the stupid headset they provided was crushing his ears.

Dragging the heel of his palms over his sore eyes, he pushed the headset back to let it dangle on his neck and give his ears a moment to recover. It wouldn’t be that much longer that he was stuck doing this. This was only a temporary thing, and he had to admit that he was accumulating funds quicker than he’d hoped. Every penny of his paycheck was being deposited right into his savings account, sitting on it and waiting to pass it on to whatever school he wound up choosing.

His grades were up to par, and he’d been losing sleep while he looked into his choices. This would be worth it, though, he promised himself. Step one was lasting another day, here. And then another. Steps one through eight were much the same, but after  _that_ … He’d get into a university and start living life as a proper adult.

Just one tiny step at a time. Get through the next call, get through the day. And hey, he was allowed to take a fifteen minute break after this one.

The next number on his computer generated list was highlighted, ready to be inputted and presumably (most likely) ignored by the person on the other end of the line. Roxas slid the headset back on, letting his training take over and stifling a yawn while the call connected. He had a book in front of him – thin and laminated – with the spiel and a list of frequently asked questions.

It was a damn good thing he’d basically memorized it, because as his first wind was winding down, the words were starting to look nonsensical.

Click.

“ _You’ve reached Reno’s Redheaded Rent Boys. What’s your address?”_

The spiel on the tip of his tongue died, caught off-guard and woken up a little. “Uh…sorry?”

On the other end of the line, Axel paused. The television remote was still in one hand, phone wedged between his shoulder and face.

He’d been expecting his roommate to call, probably talking a mile a minute and still flush with first-date jitters. Or, kind-of sort-of date, in which neither party was entirely sure that’s what they were doing. Hell, Axel had almost been anticipating it, having a less-than-fantastic time as he had a very one-sided internal wrestling match about whether he’d prefer to channel surf or work on the assignment he had due at the end of the week.

Perhaps he should have checked his caller ID.

Slowly, he sat up and raised an eyebrow at the muted TV screen, putting down the remote and observing, “…You’re not Demyx.”

Roxas’s lips parted and closed, a few sounds escaping that could have been interpreted as anything – ‘no shit’ would have been Axel’s initial guess, once the (presumably) telemarketer had gotten past their surprise – but he found sound professionalism within a moment. 

“Have I reached…” blue eyes flickered to the screen, “Axel Jenova?”

Yup. Telemarketer. “That’s right,” he responded anyway, bored enough to keep the conversation going. “So, what’s your address? Delivery in thirty minutes, or the first hand job’s free.”

In some other setting, Roxas would not have blushed. He was damn certain of that. If he wasn't in a work setting and altogether too tired for this shit, he wouldn't have missed a beat, no matter how inappropriate some strange man was, with him.

“Is this...not a good time for you to speak?” Roxas found his voice, and used it to dismantle company policy. He wasn't typically supposed to give their potential client an out, but...

He did  _not_  want to talk to this guy.

Axel was on an entirely different page. The remote clattered to the floor as he put up his feet on the couch, entirely forgetting that he'd put it there. Screw the TV; the TV had been given plenty of opportunities to prove its worth. It was time to give a different piece of technology a chance.

If only to keep delaying that whole 'homework' thing.

“I've got plenty of time,” he breezed. “Sorry for messin' with you. You alright, there?”

The apology was a surprise. Pranks weren't altogether uncommon, because some people were dicks and decided telemarketing wasn't a cruel enough fate already, but Roxas had only ever experienced that attitude shift going one way, and this guy had just put in reverse. “Fine, thank you,” he blinked at his laminated book until the words made sense again. “May I ask who is your current cable and Internet provider?”

“ _C'mon, we don't have to talk business. You know my name, so who am I talking to?”_

If he could have sighed without making a sound, thus outing himself as an asshole (or human being, with limits to his patience, just like everyone else in the world) instead of corporate non-entity, Roxas would have. “My name is Roxas, sir.”

Company policy dictated he had to give out his name, if they asked. Another check on the mental tally of 'why businesses suck'.

“ _Rox-as,”_  Axel Jenova dragged his name out until it was barely recognizable. “ _You sound cute. You cute, Roxy?”_

“If this isn't a good time,  _sir...”_  Roxas gritted his teeth.

“ _C'mon, don't hang up! What are you selling?”_

This entire conversation was going to turn into a revolving door of bait-and-switches. Roxas could feel it in his gut. And, more acutely, in the beginnings of a caffeine-withdrawal headache quickly forming behind his eyes. “We can offer you an upgrade with superior speed and security with competitive pricing to all major Internet and phone providers,” he rattled off, tone a little  _lacking_ for a salesperson. With lacking here meaning absent of any and all will to go on.

“ _No offense, but you're not really selling me on this._ ”

Roxas took this into consideration with a roll of his eyes and no apparent difference to his demeanor. “What are you paying now?”

“ _Don't recall, off-hand. I have a bill around here somewhere... Stay with me, I'll get it._ ”

He could hear some rustling on the other end as Axel adjusted his grip on his phone and got to his feet. Roxas glanced at the clock. He'd be taking his break late. He was damn sure of that. Unless he bored this guy into hanging up, this wouldn't be over quickly.

In his apartment, Axel had made his way towards the small kitchen unit, audibly opening and closing drawers and cupboards. He wasn't entirely sure whether they'd left their Internet bill – it hadn't been on the coffee table, which had been his first and only guess – but he had to keep Roxas thinking he was looking around. “So. Roxas, you said? How's the telemarketing business treating you?”

“ _It's fine, sir.”_

So rigid. So formal. “The 'sir' thing makes me uncomfortable.”

“ _I can stop, if you prefer.”_  Roxas audibly did not give a shit one way or another.

“Definitely,” Axel moved on from the kitchen, but not without letting the cutlery drawer slam first. “It's just 'Axel'. Got it memorized?”

Oh, hey. A giant, cluttered stack of paper by the front door. That looked promising.

“ _Alright_ ,” Roxas sounded a little exasperated. Perhaps it was odd to find that refreshing, but Axel liked that. No upbeat tone that made the person on the other end sound more plastic than human; no indulgent attitude that made him feel like he was being patronized, for the sake of a sale.

He crouched down, shuffling through the paper pile and shaking his head. Totally unacceptable - he'd have to work harder than  _that_. “No, come on, I want to hear you say it. Make sure we're on the same page.”

And Roxas had a nice voice, which would likely sound particularly pleasant saying his name. How pleasant that was, remained to be seen.

“Alright, Axel,” Roxas rolled his eyes, double-clicking and double-checking. Audio was off, and Tetris was open. He obviously wasn't going to be needing his sales pitch for a while.

“ _Hm... Yeah, I could see it happening.”_

Roxas barely heard that. The mutter had been an obvious aside, but what he  _had_  heard was such a non-sequitur that it begged clarification. “Excuse me, si-?”

“ _Ah, ah. We just had this discussion.”_

Roxas's eyes narrowed, correcting himself testily. “ _Axel_.”

Picking up an unopened envelope off the floor, Axel grinned and slid back upright. “Better. Hey, what do you look like?”

“ _I don't think that's appropriate._ ”

“I don't do well with phone calls unless I can envision who I'm talking to,” Axel fibbed, making his way back over to his beckoning couch. The coffee table now looked a lot more like a convenient footrest, in his eyes.

“ _I'm not required to give out that information,_ ” Roxas responded after a beat. Axel counted himself among the perceptive of the population, and gave himself kudos for reading between the lines. He could almost hear Roxas calling bullshit.

“Shame,” Axel lifted his shoulder, holding the phone still with his face pressed right to it. Free hands began tearing open the envelope. “Are you blonde, though?”

That was creepy. Roxas closed his game of Tetris and glanced behind himself, briefly eclipsed by paranoia. Their computers weren't equipped with webcams, he didn't see anyone nearby (though, that'd explain a lot about this call if it was just somebody fucking with him from the next cubicle over) so either Axel was just very good at guessing, or that was something he always asked.

Whatever. If he answered, maybe they could move on. “Yes.”

“ _Oh, good. I've got a thing for blondes.”_

Roxas reddened again, with no small amount of irritation. “If you can't find your bill, I can just give you a quote.”

“ _I've nearly got it, probably. Do you have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?”_

“I'm not going to discuss that.” He could probably hang up on the grounds of harassment, Roxas noted.

But he was pretty sure he could sell this guy something, if he just kept him on the line. He hadn't had a single sale all morning, and generally had piss-poor numbers to show head office. It wasn't like they'd threatened to fire him, but...

“ _I'm single. FYI.”_

Roxas just barely managed not to snort.

On his end, Axel was having more trouble than anticipated getting the envelope open. Generally, he considered himself a decent multitasker, but there was something about the awkward position of wedging a phone against one's cheek that made everything seem impossible.

“ _Do they include a picture, with my number?”_  Axel was saying, and Roxas's forehead was reacquainting itself with his palm. “ _Wait – stupid question. I'd get more calls. Especially if I reused my 'rent boy' opener.”_

“I guess you were expecting someone else?” Roxas leaned all of his weight against his hand like it was the only thing that could keep him upright. The rest of his energy had been spent upholding this asinine conversation.

“ _Yeah, but that makes no difference. Would've answered like that, anyway.”_

“That could get you into trouble,” he observed.

“ _Oh, it has,”_  Axel sounded quite flippant about that.

“You're probably lucky you got me, then,” Roxas drawled, entirely toneless. “At least I have a sense of humour.”

Axel had just about managed to wrestle the letter from a now-destroyed envelope with one hand, when Roxas's complete lack of irony threw him into a tailspin of hilarity. One that he managed to suppress to a quiet laugh.

Roxas's silence just  _exuded_  that he was not impressed.

“Sorry-...” Axel cleared his throat, like it magically covered up the sound of ongoing snickers. “Right, you were selling me a thing! I found that bill.”

It was almost over, Roxas told himself. As Axel rattled off numbers, he flipped back to the price listings and package deals, in his laminated book.

“For about thirty dollars less, we can offer you our standard package, which includes everything you're getting now. If you're okay with paying the same amount, though, we can double your upload and download speed, and your GB usage. It'd otherwise be the same package – phone, Internet...”

“ _What do you use?”_

Roxas paused. “Excuse me?”

“ _Do you use your company's Internet? Could I, like, go over to your place and compare 'net speed?”_

Fuck. This guy was brazen enough to throw Roxas off his game more than once, and that was equal parts exasperating and vaguely impressive. “I-... I don't think that would be possible.”

“ _Why not? If you're worried about me coming over with ulterior motives, rest assured, I don't do that sort of thing on the first date.”_

That fucking did it. “Who said anything about a date?” Roxas snapped, last vestiges of professionalism gone, eloping with the last fuck he gave, presumably to never return.

“ _I did. Just now._ ”

“Well, your joke's been played,” Roxas began piecing his composure back together. “ _Very_ amusing.”

“ _That wasn't a joke._ ”

“Regardless,” he sighed. “If you're not interested in the offer, then I should let you go.”

“ _When did I say I wasn't interested?”_  Axel protested. “ _I'm very interested._ ”

He didn't feel the need to specify whether it was the Internet or Roxas that he was most intrigued by. He'd abandoned the bill, sprawled on the couch more comfortably, and stared up at the ceiling while the TV flickered in his peripheral vision.

It was very distracting. Shame he couldn't find the remote. He was trying to put together an image of Roxas in his mind – blonde, obviously not too old, probably pretty cute, undoubtedly scowling. Everything about him screamed 'attitude'. Axel liked attitude.

If he liked guys, at all... And, at the end of their conversation, hadn't expressed a desire to throttle him... Maybe he'd be down for hanging out. Not necessarily a date, Axel reasoned. Just...something to get to know him.

It'd been a while since he'd made any friends, let alone a potential romantic option. There  _had_ been Demyx, before Zexion, but he lacked that bit of  _fire_  Axel wanted.

Even now, he was certain Roxas was cursing a blue streak in his own head as he ploughed on with his spiel. “ _Are you a student?_ ”

“Yeah,” Axel confirmed.

“ _Under twenty-five?_ ”

“Right again,” he closed his eyes to block out the television. Much better.

“ _Then you're eligible for our student plan. That gets you the same services, plus offers on additional channels of your choice and upgraded speed for social media usage.”_

He hadn't listened to a word of that. “Cool. Are you student?”

“ _Yes..._ ”

“Hollow Bastion University?” That'd be a convenient coincidence.

“No,” Roxas answered, drumming his fingers against the sales book impatiently. It wasn't any of Axel's business to know that he was intending on applying there.

“ _...Where else is there to go, in the area? Are you calling from out of state?”_

Checking the  _area code_  was obviously beyond Axel's mental capacity, Roxas concluded, and indulged that idiocy with, “This call is local, si-... Axel.”

“ _So, where are you going to school, then?”_

“Are you interested in the student package?” Roxas diverted, hoping that made it clear that he wasn't going to tell Axel anything else about himself.

“ _I'm interested in plenty of student's packages._ ”

Oh good fucking god. Roxas's finger twitched towards the 'disconnect' button, but stopped when Axel sighed.

“ _You're really not interested, huh? Is it because I'm a guy? You can give it to me straight. ...Pretend there weren't as many possible innuendos in that statement as my mind just came up with._ ”

Quietly, Roxas groaned. “That's not the issue. I just don't take pick-ups from strangers. Particularly strangers I met on the phone. At work.”

There was a short silence on the line, and in that time, Roxas picked up on the tempting smell of coffee passing by his cubicle. Longingly, his gaze lifted and he almost turned to stare after the coworker who'd just walked by. Sweet caffeinated elixir... so close, so just beyond his reach. If there was any chance he could just close this one sale, and be done with-

“... _So... You_ _ **are**_   _into the guy thing, then?_ ”

This time Roxas groaned loud enough for Axel to hear.

“ _Sorry, I'll give you a break,_ ” Axel laughed. “ _I'll sign up for the student-whatever._ ”

Wait.

Roxas sat up a little straighter, surprised to hear that his suffering might've lead to an honest-to-god payoff. “Really?”

“ _Sure, why not? My Internet sucks, anyway. I could use a change._ ”

Oh, hell yes.

“Good,” Roxas's fingers flew over the keyboard, confirming Axel's purchase before he could take it back. “When will be a convenient date for our technicians to come over?”

“ _Pretty much whenever. I'm free evenings, but obviously, I won't be home on whatever day you've also got free.”_

That one almost made Roxas crack a smile. Thank god there was no way that Axel could tell. “Is there any day you're home between eleven and five?”

“ _Friday, yeah._ ”

“Okay,” Roxas's fingers sped over the keyboard again. “We can have that set up on Friday the twentieth. Does that work?”

“ _Sure. Hey, can I have your number?_ ”

“I can't give you that,” Roxas finished typing, too encouraged by the sale to sound properly disdainful.

“ _Aw, come on, you have mine.”_

“That could get me fired,” he crossed his arms and kicked against the desk slightly, pushing his chair back. The call was moments away from ending, and that coffee was calling to him like a siren's song.

“ _Well, wouldn't want you to get fired. Will you call me, later?_ ”

Axel was expecting a 'no'. Maybe accompanied by a 'thank you' and 'goodbye', followed by a click and a dial tone.

So he found himself very pleasantly surprised when, after a moment of thought, Roxas replied, “ _Look, you bought the stupid Internet, so I'll give you one chance._ ”

Axel sat up smoothly, legs swinging over the side of the couch. “Really?”

“ _Yeah. I'm going to some party, next Friday night. You can come if you want, and if I don't hate you, maybe you can save me._ ”

Pen. He needed a pen. Where in the hottest and most thoroughly-lubed of fucks was a pen?

“Where's the party?”  _Pen!_  Fucking finally, a pen. Right there, with his untouched homework. What a place for a pen to be.

He jotted down the address Roxas gave him with a victorious feeling.

“ _Just show up before midnight,_ ” Roxas instructed.

“Sure,” he grinned, toying with the pen between his fingers in a way that should have been illegal. He'd underlined the address a couple of times, for emphasis, on the unpaid bill. “You know... If we're meeting up, I really  _should_  know a bit more about what you look like.”

“ _I don't think so. Tell me what you look like, and if I like you, I'll find you._ ”

Couldn't argue that logic. “Tall. Redhead. Tattoos under my eyes.”

Roxas didn't think it'd be difficult to find a university student at this party, anyway – or anyone of legal drinking age – but the description was certainly distinctive. “Face tattoos?” he raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“ _I make 'em work._ ”

“Guess I'll find out,” his eyes flickered to the clock again. If this guy was at least attractive, then...maybe. He was clearly a bit of an asshole, but that wasn't always a bad thing. Roxas, himself, was an admitted asshole. “Thanks for padding my quota.”

“ _You're welcome. Thanks for giving me something more entertaining to do than channel surf.”_

Roxas's lips twitched. “See you, then.”

“Lookin' forward to it,” Axel grinned at his phone as he hung up.

He'd need to pointedly look...not-like-a-creep, he reasoned. That was doable. He'd absolutely look like the kind of person no self-respecting mother would ever let near her son, but that horse had been shot in the face when he'd picked up his tattoos and penchant for leather.

It wasn't a date, and that was fine. It was more like...an audition process, before dating.

And he'd accomplished that much in the span of one phone conversation, he praised himself. He was practically at the same relationship stage Demyx had just reached, and that had taken him _months_.

Speaking of which, his phone had blown up with a number of increasingly-frantic texts from his roommate, which he elected to ignore. He left the TV on and muted, heading to his inspect his closet for something a trustworthy customer would wear.

Two weeks until he met Roxas, but a little preparation couldn't hurt.


	2. Well, It's Not a Warehouse

It was remarkable, how chilly room-temperature could feel on someone's bare skin as they deliberated over the contents on their closet. Roxas's school uniform had been ditched the moment he'd walked through the door, and there hadn't seemed to be much point in throwing on lounge-wear for a few hours when a blanket served his purpose just as effectively.

He had half an hour before his ride was expected to show, though, and he still hadn't made much progress on the decision-making front. Roxas had been pointedly not thinking about this party – and this implicit 'date' he'd arranged to meet – since he'd agreed to it, just to avoid building up any nerves or expectations. Most likely, this guy wouldn't even show. If he _did_ , he was probably just as creepy as Roxas would expect, given the way they met. He'd probably know in an instant that he shouldn't go anywhere near this asshole.

Tall, redhead, tattoos under his eyes. Yeah, _that_ was the kind of guy who had to get a date by flirting with the telemarketer.

Nonetheless, Roxas still lingered over his array of black and khaki. He'd at least settled on a striped shirt.

A couple of short taps against his bedroom door were more of a heralding of his brother's arrival, than an actual request to come in. A flurry of wild brown hair dove for Roxas's bed, sitting on the mattress heavily.

And he didn't even close the door, behind him. Completely typical.

“Hey, Riku just sent me a text to say that he's leaving, so it'll be about ten minutes,” Sora announced.

Fuck. Less time than he thought. “I'll be ready,” Roxas sighed, in lieu of telling off his brother for just barging in.

“'Kay. So, you going to this party in your underwear?”

Roxas shot him a glare. “Shut the door if you're going to talk about that,” he hissed, though he was already partway to doing that for Sora, rather than have him jump up again. “And yes, this is how I always go to parties.”

That just earned him a worried look, which Roxas met with a disbelieving stare. “...I'm in the process of putting pants over the underwear.”

Sora relaxed a little. “Oh. Well, you know you're still welcome at Kairi's sleepover whenever you're done there.”

“I know,” Roxas turned his attention back on his closet, withdrawing a pair of his most form-fitting black jeans. His attention-grabbing pants, which coincidentally made his ass look particularly grab-able. Still didn't mean he expected anything from tonight, but better to be prepared, right? “That's my back-up for tonight.”

“Back-up?” Sora tilted his head, and sounded as knowing as his endearing lack of awareness enabled him to. “You're meeting someone, aren't you?” His words were accompanied by a barely-perceptible groan. If Roxas hadn't had a lifetime of experience with Sora-nuance, he might have missed it.

“Maybe,” Roxas began pulling on his jeans, needing to wriggle his hips a little to get them to sit where they were supposed to. He could _feel_ the doubt rolling off of Sora in waves, which, he admitted, probably had something to do with his diverse history of 'maybe's, so he clarified, “... I mean that 'maybe', there's like a fifty percent chance I'll actually talk to this guy.”

… Wristbands. He needed his wristbands. Roxas turned to rummage one-handed through the drawer he kept his accessories in (what few he owned) while he wrestled his way into the shirt he'd chosen.

“So you don't know him?” Sora's face fell, a little. “How'd you meet this guy?”

“Work.”

It wasn't _un_ true.

The shirt was tugged over his head – he'd need to check on his hair – and his search for his arm bands was proving fruitless. Sora, in the meantime, looked to have been squirming the entire time Roxas wasn't looking directly at him, nose scrunched a little in that manner that made it clear he had _something_ to say.

“...Your poker face is awful,” Roxas managed not to roll his eyes. “What is it?”

“I'm just _worried_ about you,” Sora burst out, grabbing the checkered wristbands off Roxas's nightstand. His eyes flickered there, kicking himself momentarily for having forgotten to put them away, and allowed Sora to tug his arm over to finish dressing him.

“I can take care of myself,” he pointed out, and pulled away from Sora when he was done. “You're still going to cover for me, right?”

“Obviously,” Sora seemed a little offended by the question, but his frown was still mostly born from concern. “Is this going to be like last time?”

“I acknowledge last time was a devastating failure.”

“Maybe if you knew the guy better first...”

Roxas pocketed his phone, and grabbed his keys out of his uniform pants' pocket. “Not all of us are promised forever to our best friend.”

It was uncanny how much they could sound alike, at times, when Sora hissed his own indignation. “Me and Riku aren't like that.”

Ugh. Riku's name _alone_ gave Roxas a sense of deep-seated...'ugh'. Plus, the very idea of Riku with his _brother_... He may have been the one to bring it up, but it still left him feeling disturbed.

“Yeah, how so?” Roxas stowed his keys and covered his scowl. It was as effective as trying to hide an elephant under a doily.

“... Riku's straight.”

“All the more reason not to pine after him like a lovesick puppy,” Roxas shook his head in irritation. “What do you even see in him?”

Sora's cheeks tended to puff out a little, when he sulked. Roxas liked to pretend that his didn't do the same thing, not that he ever 'sulked', so he tried not to look directly at him. He went to his clothes drawer and opened the second drawer from the top, pushing aside some of the clothing in there.

“I know _you_ don't like Riku, but I don't think you're fair to him.”

“I've accepted that he's your friend,” Roxas fished around the back of the drawer. “You can't convince me he's not an asshole.”

He could _feel_ Sora's pout increase in magnitude. He must not have had an argument prepared, though, because he changed the subject. “When do you think you'd get to Kairi's?”

Roxas slipped the last of his necessities into his pocket. “If I do show up, it'll be after midnight.”

“Okay...” Sora sounded reluctant.

“I'll text you by one to let you know I'm okay.” Roxas turned back towards Sora, and paused. “...If I don't text you, I'm probably still okay, so don't call Mom and Dad.”

“ _Roxas_ ,” Sora wheedled. “Promise.”

“Fine, I promise I'll text you,” he withheld another sigh.

It was harder to do, when Sora lifted a hand and extended his pinky finger with a deadly serious expression. He hadn't changed from when they were children, when it came to how much weight he gave to promises and apologies.

Yet, _this_ was how he went about them. Roxas rolled his eyes.

He locked his pinky around Sora's, anyway.

“Good,” Sora brightened, accepting that completely. “I'm gonna go wait downstairs.”

He'd dropped a backpack outside Roxas's bedroom door, which he picked up on his way downstairs. Predictably, the door was left open, in his wake.

Roxas closed it, on his way to the bathroom. He'd fix his hair, and make his way downstairs... And if he was a bit behind, the only repercussion would be to make Riku wait on him. Sora wouldn't let them drive off, without him.

It took exactly ten minutes, from the time Riku had texted Sora, for him to pull up in front of their house in his pristine-condition second-hand silver car. Sora bounded up from where he'd been waiting – seated on the floor in front of the door, if anyone really had to ask, but that was a perfectly reasonable level of anticipation for _Sora_.

“Roxas! Riku's here!”

He was doing a very thorough inspection of every spike, purely for the purposes of stalling. “Be right down,” he called back, pulling away from the mirror. It occurred to him that he should cover up a little, in case his parents saw him on the way down. He was hardly scantily clad, but he definitely wasn't in clothing one would wear to a casual sleepover with friends.

Grabbing a hoodie would take, what, another...five minutes?

Riku was shutting off the radio and unbuckling his seat belt, leaving the engine idling and watching the door with fluctuating degrees of patience. It wasn't that he minded waiting, but...

Seeing Sora right then, with all things considered, made Riku feel less comfortable in his skin than ever. There was just nothing he could do about it, right then.

He let out a slow breath, and watched the front door.

“Come _on_ , Roxas!” Sora swung on the end of the railing, hollering up the stairs. There was a distant reproach from the living room from their mother, chiding for yelling so late at night, but Sora hardly noticed.

The black hoodie was oversized, on Roxas, zipped up all the way. He came down the stairs wearing both it and an unimpressed expression, neither of which did much to flatter him. “It hasn't even been one minute. Can you not wait that long to see your boyfriend?”

“He's _not_ my boyfriend.” The back of Sora's hand collided with Roxas's arm, breezing by without much force to it. “Don't say any more stuff like that once we're out of the house.”

“God forbid I puncture his fragile heterosexual comfort,” Roxas grumbled, following Sora to the entryway. He hadn't even started getting his shoes on before Sora threw open the door, waving at the parked car and damn-near skipping out towards it.

It gave Roxas absolutely no motivation to hurry. He'd tie his shoes at his own goddamn pace.

Sora slid into the passenger side seat when the door was opened for him, Riku having leaned right over the seat to push at the door from inside. He beamed, but was privately mindful of how pleased he looked to see Riku – couldn't be too obvious that just being around him gave Sora a sense of dreamy elation, not unlike the one he used to get as a child while watching Disney movies.

“Hey!” Sora shut the car door.

“Hey,” Riku grinned back, relaxed and collected as always. “Roxas lagging behind?”

“Yeah, he's always last to be ready,” Sora turned to look back at the door, checking on his brother's progress.

“We're dropping him off first? Where?”

“I put the address on my phone, hang on...”

As Sora and Riku chatted about who-knew-what, in the front seats of his car – Roxas didn't know, and didn't care – he finished up tying his shoes and ditched the sweater, after taking a furtive look around for any family members. A clear coast meant he didn't need to go out into the night air with it on, but he almost lamented his decision at the bite of a sun-starved breeze.

It'd be too much of a pain to carry it around, at the party. Roxas locked the door before he could second-guess his decision. At least he wouldn't be doing much walking, outside. Probably.

“He looks like he's in a good mood,” Riku dryly observed, as Roxas approached the car and avoided (pointedly) looking up towards the front seat. He adopted a more civil tone when Roxas climbed into the backseat, though, greeting him with, “Hey, Roxas.”

He didn't get a response back, unless one counted Roxas's detached grunt. Riku did not. Sora, practiced at pretending not to feel the tension of dislike between them, didn't say anything.

“Seat belts, and we'll go,” Riku settled back into his seat, rolling his eyes. As far as he was concerned, he'd extended the fragile olive twig, and that was as much as he was willing to do.

“Safety first, right?” Sora laughed, a touch too chipper.

“And we could be pulled over. Wouldn't want to make anyone late for their party,” Riku's eyes flickered to the rear view mirror as he did up his seat belt, watching Roxas silently buckle his own.

“Yeah,” Sora agreed. “Good point.”

Roxas ignored them as Riku pulled a three-point-turn to get them pointed in the right direction, getting out his phone to check the time. He had an hour and a half until midnight, which probably meant he'd be doing nothing but killing time until Axel showed up... If he showed. A house filled with drunk teenagers and deafening music wasn't his idea of a good time to begin with, but Hayner insisted they make appearances at them as some kind of... ironic defiance towards the popular students? He didn't really get it, and most of the time Hayner ditched without warning halfway through, or never showed up at all. Best Friend of the Year, that one.

It made even less sense, considering Sora was undeniably one of the most popular students in their year, and he and his friends would be staying in for wholesome fun all weekend.

“Did you want to stop by a convenience store, grab snacks?” Riku suggested, happy to ignore Roxas so long as he was paying him the same courtesy.

Sora hoped they'd continue to do so, though he suspected that if either of them was going to break that established pattern, it'd be Roxas to make a rude comment. So far, so good. This was practically the same thing as his brother and his best friend getting along.

“Definitely!” Sora chirped. “Kairi's probably counting on us.”

“Plenty of sugar, then?”

Sora's eyes went wide with realization. “Dude, we could get energy drinks and stay up _all night_.”

“That's a terrible idea,” Riku laughed. “Sure, why not.”

“Awesome!”

Roxas sighed. So he'd be dealing with a sugar-crashing Sora tomorrow. Awesome, indeed.

“We'll need more food than I thought,” Riku determined, and if he was mentally preparing himself for a longer night than anticipated, he didn't tip Sora off to it. “You turn into a black hole, when you're hungry.”

“I think Kairi's ordering me a pizza all to myself.”

“Kairi's smart.”

“Heh,” Sora beamed, not even remotely abashed. “But we should buy a lot of snacks to pay her back.”

“Agreed,” Riku slowed to a stop, in front of a sign, proceeding across the barren street. It took a beat for him to speak again, and when he did – irritatingly – it wasn't even directed at Roxas, himself. “Should we expect to have to go out again, to pick up your brother?”

“...Probably not?” Sora compulsively looked over his shoulder at Roxas, who was still intent on his phone and pretending not to listen to a word of the conversation.

“Alright,” Riku said, disapproval subtly apparent.

Whatever. Like Roxas gave a damn about what _he_ thought.

“But I'll know for sure later, so...yeah,” Sora sat to face forward, again.

“We won't get too involved in anything before we know,” Riku reassured him.

“Right!” Sora smile returned.

Roxas did a far better job of tuning the pair of them out, from there. Discussions of movies (most of them aimed at preteens and under) and of snacks (primarily sugar-laden ones; weren't they going to balance that at _all_ with something savory?) and of things Kairi had suggested, all were of absolutely no interest to him.

The first mention of something relevant pulled him from his self-imposed conversational exile, though, Roxas's gaze lifting from his phone when Riku mentioned they were coming up on the right street. Riku had slowed to a cruise, scoping ahead for obvious signs of a party.

Wasn't a difficult task. The house with a sparse group of teenagers milling outside and a low thrum of bass pounding against the walls was _probably_ the one they were looking for.

It looked pretty dead, from the outside. Roxas would've wagered that it wasn't a hell of a lot better inside, either.

Sora had sat up, craning his neck and looking for any obvious red flags, and Riku took on that _quality_ to his voice that veiled any emotion from it.

“Have a good time.”

“Bye, Roxas!” Sora settled back, apparently satisfied that it wasn't going to be too crazy. “Don't forget to text me.”

“You'll remind me if I do,” Roxas unbuckled his seat belt, and hesitated, mulling over the merits of being polite to the frigid rectal thermometer known colloquially as 'Riku'.

… It'd make Sora happy, if he was, and he _did_ owe him one.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said grudgingly, opening the car door.

“You're welcome.” Riku was just as awkward about the exchange. Roxas was going to call that a victory.

He slammed the car door shut behind him, and Riku wasted no time in driving away. Sora gazed out the window, turning in his seat to watch his brother head into the party house – probably to seek out Hayner – right up until they turned the corner and were out of sight.

“Text him around midnight?” Riku suggested.

“That's the plan,” Sora replied, biting his lip briefly.

“Hey...” Riku nudged him, one hand still firmly on the steering wheel. “Try not to worry. You'll hear from him, and you're about to go stay up all night.”

His eyes were still on the road. If they hadn't been, if Riku had broken his concentration and looked over, he would've seen Sora's gaze soften.

“Yeah. Tonight's going to be fun!”

 

* * *

God, this was a dull night.

Pretty much par for the course, Roxas noted glumly. He'd known the party wouldn't be worth much, in terms of enjoyment, but he was looking forward more and more to meeting Axel the longer it dragged on.

Meeting a stranger, in the midst of a crowd of teenagers in too-dim lighting and too-loud music, just to escape the monotony. It'd be a pretty good parallel to how they first met – or, 'met'... But he was still a little while off from the midnight deadline.

At least someone had smuggled in alcohol. He was on his second drink, sipping slowly, deliberately avoiding getting anything more than a faint buzz. He wanted to be in complete control of himself, when the time came. Roxas still had... Quick glance at his phone... Half an hour.

If he even showed up.

Damn it, he should have specified an earlier time... Eleven. Next time he got hit on by a miscellaneous customer, he'd definitely arrange to meet him at eleven, instead.

His eyes flickered towards the door, as he'd been doing every minute or so, but this time... Someone had just come in, with _very_ red hair, and he couldn't get a good enough look through the dense pack of swaying and gyrating teens.

Roxas shifted away from his leaning spot, craning his neck a little and lifting himself subtly onto his toes. The guy who'd just walked in looked like he was making a pit stop before walking into a club or a rave, all leather and spiked hair and eyeliner. The constitution of an ox, to wear a leather jacket indoors with collective body heat of the house running high. He was at definitely in his twenties; over twenty-one, unless he'd obtained the six-pack of beer he'd carried in illegally. Roxas wouldn't have judged. His own can of beer wasn't exactly on the level.

The guy put down the case by the door, presumably to buy his way in if the host turned out to be discerning (they weren't, and in that case, it was probably cheap beer). He was surveying the group with just the vaguest touch of uncertainty, like he wasn't sure if he was in the right place.

Tattoos like teardrops, under his eyes. That was _definitely_ him.

Roxas started to grin. Okay, he had to admit, he hadn't anticipated things to look _this_ up.

...Now, he just needed to unlatch the drunk girl who'd just stumbled into him and decided to make him her spontaneous dance partner, and determine what he wanted to do next.

Axel slumped into the wall with one of his bribery-beers in hand, wrestling his phone out of tight pockets. Scoping a bunch of teenagers with only the descriptor of 'blonde' in mind made him feel decidedly creepy. The crowd itself was unexpected; he wasn't sure whether or not the implication was that Roxas was in high school, and if that was the case, was it weird to be here?

He'd just perpetuated criminal activity, bringing beer into this place. That could be considered condoning the inebriation of minors. Supplying, even. He was the cheapest, most common sort of dealer there was. Oh, the indignity.

All the more reason to drink these, himself, and move onto a club in an hour or so. Unless Roxas showed himself, and didn't take issue with a twenty-one year old... And, being realistic, if he also happened to like what he saw.

He'd constructed a sort of mental picture in his head, two parts fantasy and one part realism. If Roxas wasn't actually attractive to him, he'd spend a little time here, then go anyway. Wouldn't do to be _rude_ about it.

… Fuck, he'd said midnight, what if he wasn't even _at_ this party yet?

His phone, unsympathetic, provided him with a variety of game apps with which to pretend he _wasn't_ out of place in virtually every conceivable way.

Roxas, also unsympathetic, snickered under his breath and maneuvered slowly through the throng, finding a place on the wall to stick to.

Apps could only hold Axel's attention for so long, when there was a flash of blonde catching his eye from his peripheral. The lighting wasn't great, but no matter what the shade, the _rest_ of the guy was pleasant to look at. No clue if he was the one Axel came all this way to meet, but he was providing an excellent view. If he wasn't eighteen already, he was definitely _close_ , which put him several rungs above a good chunk of his current company.

Their eyes met a couple of times, catching one another looking, before Roxas dispensed with some of the pretense. He slid a little closer, eyes back on the goings-on of the rowdy soiree.

“Bit like watching the Discovery Channel, isn't it?” Roxas had to raise his voice to be heard. It was a nice voice. It would not have been out of place on a teen pop sensation.

“Nah,” Axel smirked. “The animals scatter once they figure out they're being watched. Party-goers are less perceptive.”

“Not if you blend in,” Roxas replied, a little more pointedly. “If there was a _predator_ in the room, maybe...”

“Are you implying I don't blend?” He failed to sound either affronted or surprised.

“You couldn't be more obvious.”

“I make a habit of being obvious,” Axel countered smartly.

“I noticed.”

“Then consider it for your benefit.” Lifting his beer can, Axel tilted it towards him and took a sip.

It probably wasn't very right of him, morally speaking, to be flirting with some guy without being sure -

“Axel, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Roxas?”

“Maybe,” he answered. “Haven't decided, yet.”

Axel surveyed him and grinned. “I'm Axel, yeah.”

Roxas appraised him a little, just for a second. “Alright, come on,” he tilted his head invitingly to lead Axel through the mass of bodies, glancing back only once to watch him down his beer and leave the empty can behind on top of the thin cardboard case. The further into the den they got, the closer they were forced to keep together...

But that was kind of what he was going for.

Axel wound up practically crushed against his blind date, who was definitely more attractive than he'd expected and obviously not opposed to their proximity. This was going especially well, considering they'd only met a minute ago.

From their new place, the music was that much louder and made conversation twice as difficult, and Axel had to lean right into him to speak. “Hate to be this forward, but seeing as we're pretty much crushed together...”

One hand rested tentatively against Roxas's hip, testing whether or not touch was okay this early in the game. Roxas just shrugged, eyes coming to rest on Axel's neck – damn, he hadn't realized how apt 'tall' really was, as a distinguishing feature – and starting to move with the music.

It was more like minutely shuffling from side to side, given the lack of dance floor, but one could still argue that it was still sensual. Roxas felt warmed, though he could chalk that up to the bit of alcohol he'd had.

He was _definitely_ blaming the alcohol for the dancing, but if he was getting a little caught up in the moment, he didn't think anyone could call him on it. Axel was moving against him, falling into the beat, and...

It was warmer than Roxas thought. Hot, even. Somehow, that didn't seem like an adequate reason to pull _away_ , though.

Roxas pressed even closer, a bit more color to his cheeks, and Axel's estimation of boundaries was rapidly dissolving.

“Tell me if I'm out of line?” Axel muttered against his ear, hands sliding back a little.

“Mm,” Roxas hummed and ran his own up into Axel's hair. He was still testing how much he liked him, but he was gaining points pretty steadily. He wasn't so tentative now; maybe he felt more at liberty to touch or just more comfortable, knowing Roxas would tell him off if need be. Axel was grazing, not groping, but the arm around his waist was firm.

Roxas pressed against him until their bodies were flush and tested whether or not he could align their hips while standing (he couldn't, but he _could_ slide one of his shorter legs between Axel's and feel the heat skyrocket between them), ignoring the rest of the party and the world. He didn't think anyone would care about two guys feeling each other up in the middle of a makeshift dance floor.

Like, damn, they may as well have been starting a camp fire with all the rubbing and sparking between their bodies.

Axel was leaning down again, like he was about to say something else...but instead he nipped the lobe of Roxas's ear, and that shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did but god damn, he approved. This was good. More of this would be better.

Trying to convey that, Roxas tightened his grip in Axel's hair and tried to grind closer to him, hauling himself up higher until he could graze his teeth against his neck. There was a warm hand on his ass, now, and the sting made Axel squeeze but not protest and that was good, too -

He pulled away, and Axel immediately retracted his hands. “Too far?”

“We're going,” Roxas informed him, loud enough to be heard.

“Where to?” Axel drank in the blush on Roxas's face, and bit back on the helpful suggestions that came to mind. It _was_ late, but there were probably a handful of places still open... There was at least one twenty-four coffee place Axel knew of, but there was also coffee at his place. His house, where there were all manner of comfortable accommodations apart from a coffee maker. For example, a bed.

That'd be moving awfully _fast_ , though...

Roxas took Axel's hand to drag him to the exit, shrugging in response to his question. That was cool, too. They'd talk about it outside, where there was less noise and better opportunity to strike up a conversation. That should come first.

The air outside wasn't too terribly cold, but the shock of any chill after being in such a heavy, hot atmosphere was a touch jarring. That hoodie Roxas had abandoned was sorely missed, but Axel's jacket was dropped over his shoulders at the first shiver that ran through him.

“Thanks,” Roxas was almost jolted, voice too loud with his hearing still skewed.

“No problem,” Axel grinned. “So... You're calling the shots, here.”

“Hm?” Roxas wrestled his arms into the jacket's sleeves.

“I don't even know for sure whether or not you're Roxas, 'til you tell me one way or another – although, if you're not, I'll have you know I'm promised to another.”

“I think I am,” Roxas's lips quirked, a little. “Never really thought of where we'd go, actually. You got anywhere?”

“Just my place, but it's not that close. Easier to taxi it,” Axel shrugged.

“Hm... Taking an invitation to go somewhere I've never been, with a grown-up stranger,” Roxas pondered sardonically.

“If you want, I'll offer you candy first.”

“You already did.”

Axel snorted. “All flirting aside, and making no assumptions about how the rest of this night is going... How old _are_ you?”

“I'm over the consent line,” Roxas adopted that pointed tone, again. “How old are _you?_ ”

“Twenty-one,” Axel confirmed. “So I'm not as despicable as I could be?”

“You picked me up when I was trying to make a sale,” Roxas pointed out. “That's kind of despicable.”

“That's _true_. So, would you prefer your place, or was that a 'yes' to mine?”

“Can't go to my place, so sure.”

“Roommates? Parents?” It was more likely parents. Axel got out his phone to find the number for a cab.

“Second one. They'd end me.”

“That'd put a damper on the evening,” Axel lifted the phone to his ear, waiting for them to pick up.

“They don't expect me home until tomorrow, anyway,” Roxas spoke, only in part to Axel. It was more a reminder to himself (right, he had to text Sora before he got antsy), but it earned him a raised eyebrow. Roxas ignored it, withdrawing his own phone to send a monosyllabic text to his brother while Axel spoke to the pleasantly toneless woman on the dispatch line.

“So,” Axel hung up and pocketed the phone again, once he was finished. “You're not going to have to take off at any point in the night, leaving behind only a shoe and my broken heart?”

“Obviously, _this_ was all given to me by my gay fairy godmother,” Roxas gestured down his body, dull tone almost making it to full-blown sarcasm.

“You can commend him on a job well done.”

Roxas wrestled down a smile.

“So the taxi should be here in five minutes. Wanna make out?”

“You have to ask?”

“I think so, legally.”

“I just thought I'd made it obvious,” Roxas turned to Axel and gripped his shoulders to get leverage, and realized when their lips met that, for all the touching, they hadn't actually kissed back inside the house.

He liked the taste of Axel more than he thought he would, the sharpness of beer still lingering against his tongue.

He liked it enough to slip him the condom he'd been carrying in his front pocket.

 

* * *

 

Keeping their hands to themselves during the cab ride had proved to be the most irritating task they'd ever set for themselves. When they arrived at an apartment building and Axel practically  _threw_ cash at the driver, Roxas was out of there as fast as a startled cat.

“Looks legit,” he glanced at Axel when the door to the taxi shut. Thirteen floors of well-kept building (undoubtedly marked at fourteen, for the sake of nonsensical superstition), a nice little entryway. And, even though it had been weeks, there was an added layer of security in that the address was familiar; so, the one he'd given Roxas, when they were setting up a visit from the technician.

“Expecting a warehouse?”

“Expected...less.”

“I could take that as an insult,” Axel snorted, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket to fish out his keys. The jacket that was still on Roxas, and the lack of announcement made him twitch a little, but he brushed it off once it dawned on him what Axel was doing.

Axel held the door open for him, once it had been unlocked.

“What a gentleman,” Roxas flatly commended as he walked through.

Bowing at the waist, Axel followed him through. “I am well-mannered as fuck.”

Roxas's turn to snort. “Elevator?”

“Right this way.”

So late at night, neither of the two elevators were in demand, and Axel had escorted him up to his eighth-floor apartment in very little time. Not enough time to even suggest they resume making out, while they wait, which was only a slight disappointment.

“Should I invite you in with a euphemism? Coffee?” Axel suggested, spinning his keys around one finger as he came up to the door.

“Maybe. How's your Internet?” Roxas watched his hands – holy shit, his fingers were long. How had he missed that when they were on his ass?

“Decent,” Axel grinned as he unlocked his apartment. “Want to check it out?”

“You convinced me.”

He liked his fingers, too. Those may have swayed him a little more than pride in his job.

The door opened, and Roxas made a grab for Axel's hips.

“Roxas,” Axel feigned a gasp. “Do you take me for a man of _loose morals?_ ”

He just rolled his eyes, and could have pointed out that Axel could have protested _without_ starting to strip the jacket off him, but he thought it'd be more efficient to kiss him senseless instead. The door was shut as an afterthought, the jacket abandoned, and Roxas's hands slipped under Axel's shirt.

The surprise was more genuine, this time; Axel broke the kiss with a short exhale. It seemed he wouldn't have to worry about coming up with forms of entertainment until one of them decided to break the tension.

“Bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” Roxas nodded shortly, impatiently, and oh good, Axel didn't pull away to lead him there. One of his arms found a spot around Roxas's hips, pulling him along and making them both stumble over themselves but Axel's mouth was on his throat so who cared about anything else?

Roxas wound up on top of him, on his bed. He snickered quietly, legs moving farther apart to flank him, bracing himself against the mattress as Axel sat up enough to steal another kiss. The pressure of his lips was fleeting but, fuck, how could anyone be so warm?

“So, how do you want to do this?” Axel questioned, licking his lips.

“Hm... I'd be very happy any way,” Roxas had an easier time lining himself up against Axel's hips, from this position. “But since I'm still trying you... Think you can keep that condom.”

“What a generous gift,” Axel raised an eyebrow, not in the _least_ opposed. Roxas just smirked at him and stripped off his shirt in one easy motion.

When in Rome... Axel metaphorically kissed his own shirt goodbye, as well, and returned Roxas's very literal kisses in the seconds they lasted. They were teasing and offering but never giving, and if it wasn't so sexy it could have been frustrating.

The kisses stopped when Roxas slid off of him, sitting up on his knees to unzip his jeans. A worthy cause, to sacrifice making out for. Axel followed the progress of his belt line, the jeans too tight _not_ to drag Roxas's boxer-briefs partway down his hips as they were removed.

What a generous view it was.

He was a little transfixed, purring, “You are so much hotter than I even could've pictured.”

“You're hotter than I expected,” Roxas countered with a grin, shifting off of Axel to properly abandon the jeans. Another worthwhile hit to take. Axel was okay with it.

“Then I'm happy for us both.”

Roxas paused before stripping the last of his clothing, coming back to Axel to trail his hands smoothly down his chest and delve into his pants. Axel was halfway to hard, which was enough to make clothing uncomfortable. He didn't think Roxas would mind having a hand in fixing that, for him.

“Should really get rid of all this clothing,” he almost groaned. “Plan ahead, you know?”

“It's really inconsiderate,” Roxas agreed, hand retracting to deftly work his fly open. Appreciative, Axel ran a hand through his hair (prettiest shade of blonde he could've imagined, now that he could look at it in proper light) and Roxas bit his lip, bodily prompting Axel to lift his hips. He leaned in much closer than he had to, to tug them down...

His blue eyes were half-lidded, and flicked up to meet Axel's. He swallowed hard.

“God _damn_...”

Roxas was taking his time, on this part, giving the lightest massage against Axel's cock with his boxers still in the way. His fingers pressed methodically, skillful, and it wasn't like being stroked or handled but Axel would be a fucking liar if he said he didn't like it.

As if getting a feel for his dick hadn't been enough for him to tell, Roxas gave him a quick (but obvious) inspection with a finger drawing his boxers away from his body. In another moment, they were down and there was nothing left to look at but _Axel_.

“Meet expectations?”

Maybe it was appropriate, that Axel could be this turned on and still sound so cocky.

“Too early to give that away,” Roxas replied, but he'd concluded _that_ merited the abandonment of his own briefs and was immediately working on discarding them. He put himself back on top of Axel, settling at his hips, and Axel had been _certain_ he'd had a smart-ass comment of his own in reserve but he couldn't actually remember how words worked.

He just looked up and down Roxas's body, and felt an immense sense of accomplishment.

Roxas's voice was quieter when he spoke again, now sounding as inviting as his actions had been since they got through the door. “For the record, this means I don't regret agreeing to this 'date'.”

Words. Axel totally knew how to words.

“Glad to hear it,” he managed after another second of silence. “Not that I'd mind convincing you that there are perks to the evening.”

“You still have the rest of the night to do that,” Roxas's hands splayed against his chest, again.

“ _So_ glad you don't have anywhere to be.”

When it seemed like Axel was about to get caught up in staring again, Roxas raised an eyebrow. “So I expect you to use the time that you have...”

A short, surprised noise escaped him – and it totally wouldn't have, if he hadn't been talking – when Axel pulled Roxas down against him and flipped their positions, pinning him against the bed and parting Roxas's lips with his tongue. He sucked on it, a little, when he pulled back to get into a comfortable position.

“You care if I leave marks?” Axel found new places for his mouth to go, against the groove of his collarbone and along his shoulders. Roxas hadn't given it thought, but it was a good question, now that Axel had brought it up.

“Just not where my parents will see.”

“So... The lower, the better?” Axel's voice dropped an octave and he physically followed, sliding down his body to get on level with his cock.

Very intriguing. Roxas propped himself up a bit to watch, and let Axel move his legs apart. One draped over his shoulder, letting Axel get in close to nip his thigh – holy shit that was so close to his...

And then he was sucking at that spot. Roxas's groan was choked, trying to arch his hips towards Axel's mouth. “Y-yeah... There's good.”

Inwardly, Axel grinned, and lightly bit down again.

“Nngh-...”

He made such pretty noises. He'd been so right about Roxas's voice.

Axel wrapped a hand around Roxas's cock, stroking so slow and so lightly while he gave rougher attentions to his thighs and hips. Some places were too sensitive to mess around with, much – a very gentle lick, where thigh met pelvis, and that was enough to evoke shivers – but he was getting a gauge for what Roxas could tolerate and what he seemed to want. Didn't take long to piece together that _hard_ was welcome. Axel scraped his teeth against his hipbone and ran his thumb over the crown of Roxas's erection.

Roxas breathed a small curse when Axel finally started moving in towards his cock with promisingly open-mouthed kisses, making him groan when he dragged his tongue slowly up one side.

This wasn't at all what Roxas had expected, and definitely didn't fall in line with prior experience, but that was absolutely alright with him. The filter between his mouth and his brain wasn't working so well, rendering Axel's murmured request that he not hold back on the noise moot, and making Roxas half-comprehensible when he wrapped his lips around the head.

The word was probably, “ _Motherfuck._ ”

Axel made a soft, muffled sound of warning, and grabbed Roxas's hips to keep them down. He hadn't been totally aware of trying to move them.

“Hey -” Roxas panted as Axel drew off of him, seeming to be physically reprimanding him.

“Not your turn to be in control, yet,” he purred. “Got to let me do my thing.”

Roxas's huff was somewhat petulant, but he acquiesced and went still. His reward was Axel's hot mouth enveloping him again, swallowing him down slowly to the base, and it was perfect warm comfortable pressure -

“Ah, god...” Roxas almost jerked, elbow slipping and leaving him flat on his back. He wasn't able to see so well, now, but that had stopped being a thing when his eyes had inadvertently closed and when had that happened? “Y-... You...have done this...s'a lot...”

Axel wordlessly confirmed with a series of short, strong sucks, moving his head up and down on him and it was _great_.

“God...damn it...”

The heat was taken off his cock but it was all around him, Axel teasing around his erection with gentle bites – almost too soft to feel – and harsher sucks – just hard enough, and also not hard enough, but Roxas wasn't going to complain one way or another. Everything below the waist was tingling, his leg lifted higher.

That was promising.

“Less teasing now,” Roxas moaned, perhaps a little less commanding for it.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Either fuck me or bend over.”

Axel snickered, honestly a little tempted by both options, but they had all night and Roxas had made his decision earlier. “Got to grab the lube,” he kissed his cock again before reaching over to his stocked-up bedside table, grabbing lubrication and one of his own condoms.

Roxas's generous gift could be used later.

“Spread your legs a bit more?”

One slicked finger slid into Roxas, slow. His legs had moved, welcoming, and the very slight burn of friction was okay too. It wasn't a sensation he was unused to, but it _had_ been a while.

“Mn...”

“Just tell me when you can take more,” Axel moved the finger carefully, to start with. Roxas nodded and pressed into his hand just a bit, otherwise still and relaxing his muscles around him.

He didn't hide it, when Axel found his prostate. Roxas's hips twitched hard, groaning something that was almost Axel's name, and he wanted that again so he brushed the nerve cluster harder and slower.

“G-god, yeah... You can...more...”

No teasing or messing around, now. Axel didn't ask if he was sure, working a second finger alongside the first and fingering him right against those nerves. The directness was appreciated and met with a heavy mewl.

“You sound _so_ good,” Axel's own voice was rougher, fingers scissoring to stretch him, and while the latter was expected the former was not. Something about Axel's voice like that flared the heat already inside; Roxas opened his eyes, like he had to check what that _was_ because fuck, that was an unanticipated turn-on.

“Damn...”

“You still good?” Axel's fingers curled a little.

“More than _good_...”

“Just what I like to hear,” he grinned, and thrust his fingers in quickly. It made his breath catch, and his edge feel _right there_ way sooner than he wanted.

It was nice of him to be thorough, but he wasn't as delicate as Axel seemed to think, and he did _not_ want to come without even having touched Axel's dick.

Well, he supposed he'd _skimmed_ it, when -

Not the point; there were only two fingers inside him and he wanted _more_ than that.

“Keep going,” Roxas urged, and met the responding third finger with a pleased sound. He reached for Axel, drawing him up and then pulling him down, crushing their lips together. Axel let him take the lead, pressing and humming and moaning when Roxas not-totally-accidentally bit down against his lower lip.

Axel would've been content to kiss him forever, if Roxas hadn't clearly had other plans. He broke the kiss and physically pushed him back, demanding, “Enough.”

For a second, Axel thought he wanted to stop. He quickly realized otherwise, Roxas groping for the condom to usher him on.

“Sounds good to me,” he moved off to sit back on the hopelessly tangled sheets, grabbing the lubrication as well and watching Roxas 'assist'. A pale leg was thrown over his lap again, the foil wrapper torn and the condom rolled down his length. Roxas saw no reason to take his hand from its new favorite place. He moved it steadily, almost distracting Axel from his task.

Very nice. Too nice to go unappreciated. Axel nipped at his throat, groan muted and rough, and opened the bottle.

“You want to take over this part, too?”

“Mm,” Roxas held his other hand out to take the lubricant, and grinned a little when Axel settled back against his hands to offer up his body. He poured some of the slick gel into his palm, then leaned in to attack his chest. It took Axel delightfully off-guard, moaning when Roxas started to stroke it over his cock the same instant he drew a nipple into his mouth. He scraped his teeth lightly over the bud, pleased to get a reaction.

“Fu- _uck_...”

“How should we-?” Roxas licked a slow stripe up Axel's chest.

“Ride me?”

“If you insist.” That pleased them both; Roxas slid his hips higher, prompting Axel a little into a good position to align his cock. The tip was barely nudging his prepared body and already Roxas could feel the near-unnatural heat coming off his partner. His hands rested on Axel's shoulders, sharing a grin with him as he began to slowly, so gradually seat himself in his lap.

He didn't pause, moan choked off partway and holding onto Axel tighter, who muffled his groan by burying his face against Roxas's neck.

The foreplay had pent him up, a little, and he was reduced to picturing his biology professor in compromising positions to get control of himself. Axel brought himself back to reality, but sensation was still a large part of that.

Time for the big guns. His _chemistry_ professor, bent over a desk wearing nothing but a lab coat...

“Mm... Not...what I expected, either...” Roxas was panting, and Axel was forgetting that he shouldn't leave marks behind on his throat.

“What _did_ you expect?” Axel rocked up against him shallowly; Roxas still had the majority of control, which he picked up on immediately. They moved together, Roxas lifting his hips a little and taking him in with his muscles relaxed and inviting.

“Hm, less...” Roxas almost grinned again, pushed hair out of his eyes, started moving his hips faster – he was open to Axel, for him, friction replaced by wet but nothing to take away the heat. “ _Damn_...”

“This date,” Axel muttered, hand wrapping around Roxas's cock – he'd slicked up his hand again, Roxas wondered when and how he hadn't noticed – and he started stroking him to match the speed Roxas had set. “So much better than I could've anticipated...”

“F-fuck... Axel,” Roxas shuddered. “Too close...”

“Good, not sure how long I can last...”

Instead of moving faster, Roxas slowed way down to take him harder and _deeper_. “ _Nngh_ -!” Roxas's hands ran up and scraped down Axel's back, tangling in his hair. “Y- _Yeah...”_

“ _Mm_ ,” Axel purred, biting down against Roxas's shoulder, positive he was going to reach his end soon.

He didn't need to worry about holding back, though. The dig of his teeth made Roxas spasm and white spill over Axel's fingers, moaning louder than he was even aware of.

That was more than anyone could be expected to take. The sight of him and feel of him and _fucking everything about him_ put Axel spiraling over the edge, peak taking the wind out of him. He wasn't conscious of biting down on his shoulder harder, but the sting just made Roxas shiver.

They were both shaky, neither breathing properly, and quite obviously sated.

“God damn,” Axel breathed, slowly detaching himself from Roxas's shoulder. Roxas pulled himself off with a bit of twitching and hitched breath, but didn't go far.

“Way better than staying at that party,” he sounded immensely satisfied, and sank into Axel's kiss, which was presumably his way of agreeing.

Axel gave him a small, promising nip and removed the condom, tying it off as he slid off the mattress to throw it away.

With a heavy exhale, Roxas fell back on the bed and stretched out languidly – his used muscles tugged a little, but it wasn't unpleasant. “Wake me up in an hour and I'll see if I feel like returning the favor.”

“I'll set the alarm,” Axel grabbed some tissues on his way back to bed, grinning and wiping off his hands. Roxas made a tired sound of affirmation, rolling over and closing his eyes. He could feel the mattress sink when Axel joined him, heard the click of his phone as he set an alarm.

Privately, he smiled into the pillow.

If Sora wound up texting him again, he could truthfully tell him that things had gone better than expected.


	3. When You Eat Dessert First...

On a regular day, in which Axel _hadn't_ spent the previous night engaging in two-to-three rounds of wholly satisfying sex in lieu of sleep, he was awake by seven o'clock and dragging himself to the shower. It was coming up on nine o'clock when he did rouse, and that was still a good couple of hours before he _should_ have woken up.

It was a good thing he'd gotten laid before his beauty sleep was so infringed upon.

He couldn't quite recall that was a thing just yet, though, groggy and disoriented by the time and the too-little rest. He did know that there should have been someone next to him, but also that there wasn't.

Sitting up, he blinked his bleary eyes at the clothing on the floor. Distinctly not his, unless he could wear those jeans as capris. So, Roxas hadn't left. He would have stirred if he'd heard the shower going – it was one of those sounds he had attuned his subconscious to, because if he didn't get to the bathroom before his roommate, he never would in time. Demyx had made him late on more than one occasion with his extensive showering.

So... If he wasn't in bed, and he probably wasn't in the bathroom... That meant...

It meant...

Ugh, why were the curtains not drawn all the way? Why was nine in the morning such an offensively bright time of day? What was the sun even doing? Who gave it the _right?_

Axel hauled himself up, stretching out and feeling a familiar tug of soreness around the base of his spine. Lazily, he grinned, aching muscles clearing up the last of the sleep clogging his brain. He could remember _vividly_ , now.

Being startled by the sound of his alarm, not quite recalling when he'd drifted off. Rolling over onto Roxas, reaching to shut it off, drowsily initiating and returning kisses until they were both hard. Rocking their hips against the other until they came, again, and the force of the second orgasm woke them up properly.

Grabbing the condom from his abandoned pants, prepping himself while they took turns sucking each other, turning over to let Roxas fuck him into his own mattress.

Axel had only needed to tell him once that he could take rougher. He could appreciate any dick, with enough force behind it, and Roxas's was already...

 _Very_ nice.

What was he doing, again?

Grabbing a clean pair of flame-patterned boxers from his underwear drawer ('Hello, dildo, old friend. I'm terribly sorry, but you can consider your job on hiatus. You will not be evicted, and can retain your residence next to the silky stuff.') Axel slipped them on and covered a yawn, on his way out of the bedroom.

Kitchen! Right. That was where he thought he'd check.

Roxas was about to start going through their cupboards. He'd won his battle against the coffee machine and subjugated it into use, but it wasn't actually doing his stomach many favors. He'd burned off a good chunk of calories, last night, and his body was protesting.

He'd been less successful with his battle against Sora. Despite the plans he'd overheard last night, Sora was still awake bright and early. Also chock full of worry, even though he should have taken Roxas's radio silence after that first text as a _good_ sign. It meant Roxas was having a good night, obviously. Had he _no_ sense?

His response was one short text back, one hand on his phone and the other going for the fridge.

Then the front door flew open like it'd been blown in by the biggest of bad wolves, and someone hollered, “Axe-e-e-el!”

Roxas damn near jumped out of his skin. Or, Axel's temporarily-stolen pyjamas. Somehow, a roommate had fallen outside of his expectations.

He stared at the newcomer, kitchen and doorway in plain view of one another.

If Roxas _had_ thought of Axel's roommate, _this guy_ would have been the last person he'd expect to ever run into again. Had he cared enough to make note of it at the time, he would have remembered Axel mentioning the familiar name during their first conversation. But his brain had efficiently discarded that information.

Demyx stopped short, staring peculiarly until he declared, “I know you!”

“Impressive vocal work, Dem,” Axel gave a couple of short, sarcastic claps as he came down the hallway.

“Uh... Hi,” It was the best Roxas could think of, feeling his left brow twitching upwards even as he did.

Well, this was awkward.

“Hi,” Demyx blinked. “...You're not here to see _me_ , right?”

“No.” Damn it, he was blushing. It was incredibly irritating, not to have that reflex under control.

“You're acquainted?” Axel interjected, eyebrow raising.

“Yeah, sort of,” Roxas evaded.

Knowing Demyx as Axel did, he gave him an incredulous look and tried to muster some surprise. There was some, genuinely, but once he'd wrapped his mind around the two of them ever having met... “Is there anyone you _haven't_ slept with?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Demyx frowned, looking more affronted than he probably was.

“Anyway, that was like a year ago,” Roxas shrugged, and felt a twinge of pain at his shoulder. Axel had bit down at the point of orgasm and left one hell of a bruise, but Roxas had given as good as he got.

“Huh.”

Demyx had reddened a little, himself, slipping off his shoes and trying _very_ hard to put a name to a face. He distinctly recalled sleeping with him, last year... And he was _pretty sure_ they'd exchanged names beforehand, too...

“How'd you guys even meet, anyway?” Demyx kicked his shoes off to the side.

“Persistence.” Roxas pulled open a cupboard. “Is it okay if I take some of your cereal?”

“Sure. Grab me some,” Axel collapsed into a chair, at their kitchen table.

“Bowls?”

“Cupboard next to that one.”

“Thanks,” Roxas took out two, and started pouring cereal into them, giving the box violent little shakes when the contents didn't come out as fast as he wanted.

“So, uh... Good night, then?” Demyx ventured, putting his guitar case carefully off to the side. Axel opted to smirk broadly instead of offer a reply, accepting the milk when it was passed to him and digging into his breakfast at the first opportunity. Roxas did much the same, at a more relaxed pace.

Demyx pulled up their third, and last, chair, sitting down to join them. He was squirming, a little, no longer deterred or distracted by Roxas's presence.

Axel chewed, swallowed, and said, “I'm not asking about your night, Demyx.”

“But it was _awesome!_ ” Demyx declared, wheedling a little. “He let me stay over the whole night! ...But I guess you noticed that part,” he grinned. “Still!”

“Did you...?”

“No, we're still taking it slow. I think.” Demyx leaned forward, still grinning like he was in a daze. “I mean, I think we're actually a _thing_ now. So, if we are, we're taking it slow.”

Axel's chewing slowed. Roxas chose not to comment, checking on his phone between bites.

“...Right,” Axel slid his empty bowl aside.

Roxas had had enough of his own cereal, deeming it unappealing once it reached a certain amount of sogginess, and pushed it beside the empty one. Without comment and still looking at his phone, he got up to meander back towards the bedroom.

Demyx followed Roxas with his eyes, going back to Axel when he waved a hand in his direction before going to follow the leader.

A little disappointing. Demyx slumped slightly, but got up to raid the fridge for his own breakfast. He'd tell Axel all about the details of his date, once Roxas had gone and there was no escaping listening to him.

Back in the bedroom, Axel leaned against the door frame, watching Roxas pick up his clothing to redress himself. “So...”

“Hm?” Roxas was putting his pants back on. It was a distinctly less sexy process than the reverse. The mood was drastically different, too; that was probably part of it.

Not that Axel didn't want to watch his hips wriggle, anyway. That was still good.

“Am I getting a second date?”

Roxas shed Axel's shirt to hunt down his own, shrugging. “If you want to meet up again.”

“Well, yeah,” Axel smirked.

“Sure,” Roxas picked up his own shirt, which had attempted to hide itself halfway under Axel's bed. “I guess.”

The tone was surprising. Maybe he'd expected that post-sex, Axel would want nothing more to do with him... But that was pretty much a ridiculous notion.

“So, can I get your number?” he grinned.

Pulling on his shirt, Roxas thought for a second. “Or you could always wait for me to try and sell you something else.”

“And...how long will that be?”

Roxas shrugged again, mind elsewhere – hopefully, he'd have enough time to get home and change...

A quick glance at the clock said that no, he probably would not.

“Alright.” Axel didn't want to press it too much. “You've got my number, in any case.”

“Have you got a car or anything?” Roxas looked away from the digital clock.

“I've got an 'or anything'.”

“Elaborating...?” That was an answer worth being wary over.

“Motorcycle,” Axel clarified. “That alright?”

His eyebrows flew upwards, starting to grin. “Cool. Haven't been on a motorcycle in ages.”

“You asking for a ride?” It occurred to Axel that he should probably get dressed, if _that_ was going to be a thing.

“I've got to get to work in like an hour. I'll trade you,” Roxas offered. “A ride for my number.”

“Sounds like a fair trade, to me. Sure,” Axel pulled on a shirt, smirking. Getting dressed was a rapid affair, considering the amount of time it took Roxas... Who was not having a very easy time tracking down his socks. He'd found the first by the bed, but the other...

That was eventually located over in the corner of the room. How the hell did it get there?

“I'll be back later,” Axel called to Demyx, getting a response back that was ninety percent the crunch of toast. He grabbed his leather gloves and keys on his way to the front door. The helmet he typically had Demyx use was in their hallway closet, a little harder to get to than Axel's, but he dug it out of their collection of carelessly-dropped coats. He zipped up his boots, adjusting his hold to comfortably carry both helmets, and remained hot on Roxas's heels.

He was so much more withdrawn than he had been last night, Axel mused. Comparative to the way Roxas had been throwing himself at him (not that Axel hadn't been throwing himself right back) maybe his frame of reference was somewhat shot.

Of course, Roxas also had gotten...not a lot of sleep. He was running on empty, so it was kind of no wonder he was quieter.

“So do you usually go to parties like that, or was that just for my benefit?” Axel inquired, leading him to the elevator.

“Sometimes I do. Usually when one of my friends comes up with some reason I _have_ to go.”

“Sounds like you aren't really into it,” he jabbed the 'down' button idly.

“It's totally boring unless I meet someone.”

“Did you have any back-ups?” Axel arched one eyebrow, curious. So he'd slept with Demyx and didn't shy away from meeting guys at parties... He hadn't pegged Roxas as a delicate and innocent flower, but there was definitely more experience there than he'd known. “You know, in case I turned out to be hideous.”

“Not this time. Would've just left and gone where my parents thought I was.”

“Which was?”

“Some sleepover with my brother and his friends,” Roxas managed to sound even less enthused about that prospect.

“Sounds thrilling.” The elevator doors slid open, and they both stepped inside, Axel pressing the button to take them to the basement level.

“Place to sleep, if I didn't get in someone else's bed.”

Sex had been part of the plan, then? No one had given _him_ a heads-up about that. Axel might have worked harder to impress him, if that had been the case. ...Which perhaps made it for the best that he hadn't been aware, seeing as he'd gotten all sorts of laid, anyway.

“How old is your brother?” Axel inquired, only one part 'small-talk' to two parts 'getting to know him'.

“Seventeen.”

“Huh, older than expected,” he commented. He figured the brother was younger than Roxas, but then - “How old are _you?_ ”

“Seventeen,” Roxas repeated without so much as blinking.

“You said you were legal,” Axel's back straightened slightly, a little accusing, and the elevator doors open. He didn't have much regard as to whether or not anyone was around the parking garage, normally, but with the new possible turn to the discussion, he was suddenly wary.

“Age of consent is sixteen, and the legal system has more leeway within an age gap of five years,” Roxas replied smartly, leaving the elevator anyway. “Unless you lied and you're older than twenty-one, there shouldn't be a problem.”

Briefly sizing him up, Axel determined that his logic couldn't be argued with. It meant he wouldn't go to jail if someone found out about their affair, and that he didn't have to enlist Demyx's new boyfriend to invent a time machine and un-fuck Roxas.

So he was still in the clear, and no one was around to care anyway. Axel led him towards the parking spot, relenting, “Alright, you got me there. So, you're twins?”

It took Roxas a second to get back on their former conversation track, but once he recovered from the whiplash, he raised an eyebrow. “No, our mom's just _really_ talented.”

Axel snorted, their small-talk from there increasingly idle. He needed the address of Roxas's workplace, did he mind if they took the highway, how's working in telemarketing anyway? The questions came to a stop when they did, in front of a sleek, black motorcycle. Instantly, Roxas's demeanor shifted and he grinned faintly.

“Flashy,” he commented, accepting a helmet being passed to him.

“I settle for nothing less,” Axel secured his own helmet, flattening out his bedhead. Helmet hair wasn't nearly so concerning when he hadn't gone through the process of gelling it right, anyway.

Roxas needed a second to figure out his own loaned helmet, but it felt unreasonably heavy. The sides pressed against his ears and made everything sound muddled, including the sound of his own voice when he smirked and asked, “In front, or behind?”

“Behind,” Axel snickered, speaking a little clearer for both of their benefit. He mounted the bike, leaving Roxas room to get on after him. “Up front, I'll get...distracted.”

“I'm not against that. But I might have to tell work I'll be late.”

“I risk crashing and killing us both,” Axel countered.

“Point taken,” Roxas approached the bike, slinging his leg over the seat behind him. His arms found a good grip on Axel's waist – he'd certainly seen and touched enough of his bare skin to note the guy was skinny, but what the fuck, how did he not just snap in half with a waist like that? – and he adjusted himself to the vibration of the engine. Axel had started it up, taking them out of the parking garage slow.

Roxas kind of regretted that the ride to work wouldn't take longer. He'd missed having Luxord's bike between his legs, he reminisced... More than he missed Luxord himself, actually.

The drive left him restless and his lips dry; the feel of Axel's leather jacket actually affected him as much as the incessant sensation, weirdly enough. They made no attempt to exchange words, knowing it was a fruitless endeavor, but Roxas leaned forward to direct him once they'd turned onto the proper street.

“Third on the right,” he pretty much had to shout, and felt very slightly apologetic when he realized the roar of the engine had dimmed a little as they slowed down. Axel pulled up in front of the building and shut the engine off, but didn't dare actually _park_ , considering there was no space.

They'd have to make their farewell quick. Axel raised the helmet's visor, voice still up by a decibel. “So... Have I earned your number?”

Roxas practically melted off the bike. The soreness he'd been left with warred with the pleasantly numb feeling in his legs and the unabashed warmth between them. He needed a second to know for certain that he could stand, removing the helmet to give back to Axel.

“Got something I can put it on?”

“Got my phone,” Axel unzipped his jacket pocket to fish it out, opening up his contacts. “Here... Just put your info in.”

Blank slate. Roxas had the fleeting idea to enter something cute or coy under 'Name', but shot that down fast. He plugged in the numbers and also took the opportunity to check the time; earlier for the work day than anticipated...

Actually, that was a good thing. He normally liked to shave it close to minimize his time in that den of dreariness, but this gave him more of an opportunity to clean himself up before sitting at a desk for hours.

He went to hand the phone back, and his wrist was unexpectedly caught. Axel pulled him into a kiss, head tilting high to prevent Roxas's head from smacking right into the helmet, and Roxas almost froze.

It hadn't been expected... But it wasn't unwelcome.

Roxas placed a hand against his chest and leaned into it, the kiss going on for a lingering moment until Axel broke away.

“Have fun calling up people and going through the repetitive telemarketing motions,” he grinned.

“Have fun-... I don't actually know what you do.”

“I deliver items necessary to a person's survival in a timely manner, for tip money.”

“You're a delivery boy?” That wasn't a whole lot better than telemarketing. “Where?”

“Deliver over at Cid's,” Axel tilted his head in a vague direction.

“Whatever gets you through college.”

“Pretty much,” he agreed. “I'll text you later?”

“Sure,” Roxas stepped back. “Just don't call me. Ever.”

“Wasn't planning on it, with all the time you spend on the phone,” Axel flipped his visor back down and shot him another grin. “Later.”

“See you,” Roxas lingered, the engine starting up and the motorcycle taking off again, merging with traffic and getting mixed in with the cars.

… He really did want to get on that bike, again.

 

* * *

 

Axel held out for a full twenty-four hours before texting Roxas. Just a simple greeting; he'd decided 'Hey' was probably a better opener than 'So, now that you've had some time to fondly remember our passionate affair, where would you rate my studly abilities on a scale of one-to-ten?'

He hadn't heard back, yet, and he'd sent it a couple of hours ago. Considering he'd sent the text in the middle of the day, when Roxas was probably working, he didn't actually expect to.

Even so, he kept turning over his phone in his pocket, while he worked on finessing his biology lab paper.

When the phone finally buzzed – at noon, go figure. So, lunch break... at work, as he figured – it was a pretty generic response back, Roxas returning the greeting.

Axel wasn't so far gone that it made him giddy just to hear from him, or anything remotely like that... But he did grin, over getting a response.

_[Axel. 12:05 PM]: 'You doing anything later?'_

He fired off the text, and waited. Not for very long, though.

_[Roxas. 12:09 PM]: 'I have school tomorrow. No plans after work though.'_

_[Axel. 12:09 PM]: 'Wanna hang out? Not too late, and I'll drive you home after.'_

The next response didn't come for a couple of minutes. Axel had started turning the phone over in his hand, again. Bribery couldn't hurt...

_[Axel. 12:12 PM]: 'I'll pay, if we get dinner or something.'_

That earned a quicker response, Roxas joking through text,

_[Roxas. 12:13 PM]: 'I'm not a hooker. Think you can get me over there by waving your money around?'_

_[Axel. 12:13 PM]: 'You'd be out of my price range. Can I pick you up? From work, not in the picking-up-a-hooker way.'_

Roxas texted him back; half-past-five, at a coffee shop. Axel was pretty sure he remembered seeing it on the way back home, yesterday, after he'd dropped Roxas off.

Axel grinned, getting up to check out his closet. Coffee date. A little more conventional than they'd started, but he had no qualms with working in reverse.

_[Axel. 12:15 PM]: 'I'll be there.'_

 


	4. One-Hit K.O.

He was going to have to meet Axel in his work clothes. As a rule, they didn't tend to run as sexy as he preferred, but he'd have to work with that. Ten minutes before Roxas was supposed to meet him, and he was nearly at the coffee shop they'd agreed upon. Axel would probably be a little while, which would give him time to get something heavily caffeinated into his rapidly draining system.

Even without marathon sex to keep him awake, sleeping wasn't the easiest of affairs. Work drained whatever energy he _did_ have into the black void of pseudo-productivity, so consequently, he felt kind of...zombie-like. Overall, not an attractive display. 

He refused to acknowledge the possible link between evening coffees and his inability to sleep at night. Besides, he had essays to work on when he and Axel were done here.

Leaning into the door to open it, Roxas made a drowsy beeline for the counter, and missed the set of eyes on him. Axel grinned, having spotted him immediately over his phone and beverage.

So, he'd gotten bored and shown up a little after five. It had given him some quality time with online poker, betting fictional money against real-life assholes. Online cards could be set aside, though, when there were better things to stare at.

Those pants did not do his marvelous ass justice. Axel watched appreciatively, anyway, and considered catcalling him. Something really crass, that could warrant the justified threat of kicking him out of the coffee shop.

He could be  _really_ cheesy and cliché about it. They sold cinnamon buns, here; maybe he could work in a terrible coffee shop double entendre.

Roxas grabbed a cardboard sleeve for his gargantuan coffee as he picked it up, but sipped it before even waiting for it to cool. He turned, prepared to take a seat anywhere, and stopped short.

Axel raised an eyebrow at him, inviting him over without having to speak. Fucking shucks, Roxas was blushing a little and if that wasn't just the most adorable thing he'd ever seen, Axel would...

Well, do nothing, but that didn't make the sentiment any less true.

“You're early,” Roxas slid into the chair across from him.

“Nah. Just eager,” Axel answered, nonchalant. “...Or, I had nothing better to do than ditch my assignments and hang around. Your preference is the truth.”

Roxas grinned, and opted not to specify which one he  _did_ like to think. “University sounds nice.”

“It's alright. Lot of typing shit up, then typing it up again with different wording.”

“That's frighteningly like high school,” Roxas sipped his scalding drink, again, and Axel briefly entertained the idea of engaging in a game of footsie.

...Nah. Not his style.

“The lab assignments are cooler than high school's,” Axel assured him. “More flammable chemicals.”

Roxas snickered. “Yeah, all that annoying safety...and the padded walls and baby gates.”

“Exactly. Who needs that shit?” Axel snorted, and threw back a swig of his iced coffee. It was mostly water, by now, the dilution making the taste unpleasant, but the company was good so what did he care? “What about you? What do you want to take?”

Visibly, Roxas hesitated, something unreadable in his pause. “...Doesn't really matter, does it?”

“Undecided?” Axel filled in the blank for him.

Roxas shrugged, taking a long, slow sip of his coffee.

“Could always go into Communications,” Axel suggested, not sounding even remotely innocent. His jerk-ish-ness bled right through his tone like water through tissue paper.

Roxas was faintly perplexed, however, raising an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

“To excel in your current line of work, obviously.”

Axel got the distinct feeling, from Roxas's now-narrowed eyes, that he was a few seconds away from finding out how hot that coffee really was.

“I'm kidding,” he defended himself. “...You're sexy when you contemplate murder.”

“Still have this scalding drink...” Roxas mused threateningly.

Ah, he knew it! He knew it'd be the drink.

“I'll behave,” Axel relented.

“What wasn't _exactly_ what I was asking for,” Roxas leaned back in his seat, quite possibly more discontented by that prospect than of telemarketing after high school.

“Were you hoping more along the lines of me offering to blow it for you?” Axel suggested.

In a flash, Roxas's frown brightened up as he contained a laugh. He liked that he could make it do that. “It is  _very_ hot, still.”

“But we're in _public_.”

“You sound so concerned.”

Axel dropped his tone of mock-disapproval. “Not so much, but I  _would_ like to foreplay our way to foreplay. We're at 'eight'play, at the moment.”

“It's exponential?”

Nodding sagely, Axel took another sip of his terrible water-coffee before sliding it away. “So. Start me at the basics. I don't even know your last name.”

“...That's important?”

Axel shrugged. “Humor me.”

“Is this going to turn into a trivia swap?” Roxas looked less than thrilled at the prospect.

“If you want it to?” Axel only shrugged again.

“No. I don't.” Roxas sighed. “But, it's Hikari.”

“Roxas Hikari,” Axel repeated, and grinned. “Where do you go to school?”

“You sound like a hairdresser. Twilight Town Secondary.”

“Hairdressers don't generally intend to mack on the people they're assailing with questions. You said you had a brother?”

“Not most of them, no,” Roxas bit back another sigh and quickly had to think back to the other night. Was it creepy that Axel knew he had a brother, or -? “I think I did mention him, yeah.”

“So, what's that like?” Axel was playing with his straw, bending it every which way. “Having a twin, I mean.”

Roxas's eyes flickered out the window. His chest rose and fell in silent exasperation. He must have answered this a lot. “I'm not a twin, actually...”

“I thought you were the same age?”

“Yeah, we are. I have two brothers.”

“...Triplet?” Axel whistled.

“Yeah,” Roxas waved his hands in sarcastic celebration, then went for his coffee again. “I know, incredible, right.”

“What's _that_ like, then?”

“Crowded.”

Axel snickered, but it almost came off as sympathetic. “You don't get along, then?”

“ _They_ get along.”

“Ouch.” Unthinkingly, Axel grabbed his coffee again to take a sip. He regretted his decision.

“Whatever,” Roxas dismissed. “They can get paired for the rest of their lives if they want.”

That was probably a good place to let the topic drop. He could tell it wouldn't be the wisest course of action to pursue it. “...Who do you hang out with, then?”

Roxas gave him a strange look. “I have  _friends_ .”

“I was asking about them,” Axel rolled his eyes. “Like, how do you know Demyx? What circles do you even run in?”

“I don't know anything about 'circles'. One of my friends just insists we go to parties to investigate what the prep kids are up to, but I swear he can be just like them,” Roxas took another drink of his piping hot coffee, swallowing more than what was probably medically safe. “That's usually where I meet guys like-...like Demyx.”

“...Slutty guys, you mean?” Axel could have pointed out to himself that he _also_ fell into that category, with just the other night as a prime example. He chose not to.

“Guys who are interested,” Roxas corrected.

“Oh. So, guys with the god-given power of vision?”

Roxas almost snorted into his coffee. “Well done. Very charming.”

“If I had a hat, I'd tip it.”

Lifting the coffee cup to drink the remainder, Roxas set aside his impressively-sized drink, now emptied. “So, when you said 'hang out'...”

“Yeah?”

“Well, where should we go? Your place again?” Roxas raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“If you want to,” Axel answered, but it sounded almost like a question.

“Got nowhere better,” he pointed out. They couldn't exactly go back to _his_ place, with two parents and two brothers... And, given the hour of the day, probably also Riku. The guy never seemed to go home, if he could help it. If his parents were seriously going to tolerate his presence so often, the least they could do was charge the guy rent. Roxas was unabashedly bitter.

“Cool with me,” Axel broke his train of thought. “But, be honest... Do you just want to get back on the motorcycle?”

Roxas grinned. “It's like you know me already.”

“Knew it,” Axel picked up his plastic cup, giving it brief consideration. Did he want to finish it, for nothing if not principle? He wouldn't enjoy it, but damn it, he paid good money.

“I'm a guy who knows what he wants,” Roxas shrugged, getting up to throw his own cup away. Axel concluded that his would join Roxas's; it just wasn't worth it.

“You're going to have to be behind me, again.” Good thing he'd prepared for this. Axel didn't always have the second helmet around, but he figured they might end up going somewhere.

“No distracted driving?”

“Not unless we want to spend a romantic evening in the hospital.”

Pushing open the door, Roxas noted, “I admit it'd be the first time I've done that.”

“Raincheck on that?” Axel headed towards his bike, parked at a meter that still had almost a half-hour left paid up on it. “My chemistry professor is a hard-ass. Broken limbs would not be a permissible reason to miss class.”

“I believe it,” Roxas nodded, and heaved an overdone sigh. “I guess I can wait.”

Axel snickered, unlocking the helmets and handing one to Roxas. Expertly, Roxas secured it on his head and slid his leg over the leather seat.

Leather between his legs... Roxas almost sighed genuinely, this time. No license to speak of, yet, but if he  _had_ one, what would it take to convince his parents to let him get a motorbike? This would do for  _now_ , sure, and came with the additional perk of a guy to wrap his arms around once Axel got on, in front of him.

Nevertheless, he could dream.

Without the stress of getting to work, this time, Roxas enjoyed the ride a lot more – an unexpected amount, really, hyper-aware of leather and vibration and Axel's ass  _very_ close to his crotch.

At the first red light, Axel decided to make things (better) worse by arching his back to press his ass back  _purposefully_ , making Roxas's breath catch.

Unfair...

The teasing was fleeting, despite Axel's temptation to do it again. It wouldn't be fair to work him up, though. Already, they'd done nothing but chat and have sex... He did still  _remember_ how to flirt like a normal person, right?

Meanwhile, Roxas was contemplating whether or not biting the exposed part of his neck was an option. Probably not, with the helmets. That was a genuine shame.

He settled for squeezing Axel's sides a little, pressed close, waiting out the ride but thoroughly enjoying it. By the time they were pulling into the parking garage and the ignition was shut off, he felt kind of...tingly. He was visibly flushed, and Axel noticed the moment the helmets were off.

Axel had  _some_ sense of propriety, getting to his feet and bracing one hand against the seat, then leaning in close in order to keep his voice down. “Are you hard?”

“I could get there,” Roxas grinned, reluctant to get up.

“I knew you had a thing for the bike.”

“We have a sordid affair,” Roxas casually agreed. “Do _you_ vibrate? I don't think so.”

“I can't argue that, but at the very least we could make it a threesome.”

The image that conjured leapt to the forefront of Roxas's mind, darkening his interested flush. “Now, that  _would_ be interesting.”

“We'll save that as an option for later,” Axel laughed.

At last, Roxas started to get up off the motorcycle, standing very close and rolling his eyes. “Might be safer late at night, when there's no traffic.”

“Probably,” he grinned, spinning the keys around one finger and picking up their abandoned helmets. “For now, we should head upstairs.”

“Sounds good,” Roxas pulled away from the bike, remembering the direction of the elevators. Axel followed, but really not fast enough for his liking. Axel was languid, movements easy; it was honestly unreasonable, compared to the quick beats of Roxas's pulse and his building impatience. He jabbed at the elevator button and leaned into the wall, waiting.

“So...” Axel was twirling his keys, again. “What did you want to do, anyway?”

He'd metaphorically stamped on Roxas's libido. Almost disbelieving, Roxas stared at him. “You mean you...didn't have some idea?”

“Not particularly?” Axel raised an eyebrow, back at him. “I figured _you_ had the specifics in mind, when you suggested my place.”

What?

… Seriously, _what?_

Roxas looked at him uncomprehendingly. “...You're kidding.”

“I mean, I can _guess_ , but I didn't want to assume...” Axel backpedaled.

Rolling his eyes, Roxas slipped past the opening elevator doors. “Let's get up there, then.”

“Hold on.” Axel's hand caught the elevator door, and the other snagged Roxas's shirt. “I know we kind of started this off with sex, but I don't feel right just going upstairs with you, assuming I'm going to get laid. So, to be clear...is that what we're doing?”

Axel was rapidly becoming the strangest person he'd ever known. Roxas was all the more puzzled.

“Uh, yeah,” he responded after a second, in which he determined that he was being serious. “I thought that was obvious when you texted me.”

He perplexed Axel, in return. “...You thought this was a booty call?”

“...Why not?” Roxas's expression was unchanging.

“I was kind of looking for... You know. A date?” Axel raised an eyebrow.

Well.

Roxas was honestly surprised. “...Oh,” he reddened faintly, again, and this time it was  _not_ because something was pleasantly gyrating against his junk.

“Did you honestly not get that?” Axel questioned, brow knitted.

“Considering we met two days ago as a hook-up arranged over the phone, yes.”

Oh, shit. “I was trying to arrange us actually going out, over the phone. Not just a hook-up.”

“...I don't get it,” Roxas took a step away, and the elevator closed. “You actually expect this to go somewhere?”

“Well,” Axel muttered. “This is embarrassing. Kind of, yeah?”

The beat of silence seemed more like a full-on ambush. It was a beat- _down_ , quiet effectively and viciously kicking the shit out of awkward words.

“... Axel, I don't even _know_ you.”

“That's kind of the point to _dating_ ,” Axel replied, no less nonplussed. “Getting to know me?”

Roxas stared at him briefly, then looked away. At least he understood a few things better now... The morning after, the text so soon afterwards, the prying questions... “Look, I'm okay with hooking up and hanging out sometimes, but I just don't want a boyfriend right now.”

And now came the  _extreme_ discomfort.

“...Right,” Axel nodded slowly. “Okay...”

“...Is has nothing to do with you, or anyone,” Roxas sighed. “Sex is simple, dating is complicated, that's it.”

“But,” Axel said slowly, “hanging out is still cool?”

“...Yeah,” Roxas replied cautiously. “If you want to be friends, I guess.”

“Friends who have sex.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn't counting out that part.” He'd feel kind of ripped off, honestly, but Roxas didn't think that'd be smart to say. Axel was taking it well so far. He didn't want to wreck that and have to go home, especially after he'd gotten himself kind of...in the mood.

“... Okay,” Axel concluded.

“So...are we still going upstairs, or did you have another idea?” If he persisted on the dating-thing, though...

“Upstairs is still good,” Axel pressed the 'up' button again, calling the elevator back. Conveniently and considerately, the elevator doors opened almost instantly, and the pair of them went inside.

Privately, Axel was somewhat troubled. He should have picked up on it, he realized. Very belatedly. He felt like he'd been served an entire birthday cake and opened the gifts, only to show up late to the party.

Still... Having a friend, and an extremely attractive sex-buddy, was not exactly the worst thing to come out of  _any_ situation. He could roll with this.

Roxas leaned into the corner, surveying Axel with a modicum of worry. If he intended to involve feelings, maybe this whole thing wouldn't be the best idea... But he did still  _want_ to. Axel had leather, and versatility, and a sizable dick. He also wasn't bad to talk to – he was funny.

In a stupid kind of way.

It'd be cool to hook up with him, preferably the moment they walked through his front door, but Roxas supposed it would be fair to give him an option. “So...got any video games or anything, up there?”

Axel blinked. “Plenty.”

“Anything good?”

“A wide selection. I'll let you check it out and determine for yourself.”

“Cool.”

He was amenable to that. The awkwardness had cooled him off quicker than any cold shower ever could.

The doors opened on the eighth floor, and Roxas found that he hardly recognized the layout of the apartment Axel brought him to. In his defense, he hadn't been paying too much attention, the first time around. The kitchen was on his left, a couple of dishes left on the table, and the living room table straight ahead looked to house at least one shelf worth of textbooks and notepaper. No specific assignment would ever again be found in the midst of it all, lost to the labyrinth of educational fragments.

The place looked otherwise pretty clean. Surprising, given that it was the residence of two university students. It was only fairly recently that it was converted to such a state, though, Demyx having developed a sense of fastidiousness, because Zexion wouldn't set foot in the place unless it was clean.

“Demyx?” Axel called, testing whether or not he was home, and dropped the helmets in the closet. “...Nope. C'mon in. I guess he's off with his new boyfriend, again.”

Roxas stepped inside and took off his shoes, unthinkingly undoing a few buttons of his shirt while he was at it. He was quick to catch Axel watching.

“...So, uh,” Axel cleared his throat.

“So...yeah,” Roxas was no more articulate. “Whatever you want to do.”

“I'd like to hang out with you. Or have sex with you.” Those were pretty much the options, so that was of no help. “You don't make platonic shit easy, when you're all sexy.”

“I don't know what I want yet,” Roxas shifted uncomfortably. “I know I like having sex with you, and I'm willing to try hanging out for real.”

“...How late can you stay?” Axel shrugged off his jacket.

“Any later than eleven, and my parents will get freaked out.”

That solved  _that_ dilemma. That was plenty of time. “We have time for both,” Axel propositioned.

Some of the tension broke, and Roxas grinned. “That depends how long either takes.”

“We'll choose a short game,” he quipped, and smirked right back. Their bookcase had only one shelf that wasn't full, the top shelf dedicated to the school books that no one had bothered to put away yet. The remaining contents were all games, and Roxas knelt to get a better look.

“Hmm,” he scanned the titles. “Hard to choose.”

Axel was of no help. There was a blonde on his knees like, right in front of him, and he was very conscious of the fact that they were totally going to have more sex. He couldn't think of anything else, at the moment.

“Could kick your ass at racing or fighting,” Roxas pulled a couple of games out. “Your choice.”

Fuck racing games; those would only foster hate, instead of friendship. “Fighting it is,” Axel decided, going to drop onto the couch. He distinctly recalled stashing a controller on the ground nearby...

Ah, yes. He picked it up, crossing his legs with his heels resting on the small amount of bare space the coffee table could provide.

“Want to make it interesting?” he suggested, observing Roxas as he put the game in the console and hunted down a controller for himself. He found one, also on the floor. Go figure.

“Interesting how?” Roxas looked a mite suspicious.

“Loser has to do something for the winner.”

… There were so many appealing connotations to 'something', but Roxas needed to clarify. “Anything?”

“Anything at all,” Axel smirked, and Roxas mirrored the expression. Oh, good, they were back on the same page; that was _definitely_ about sex.

“You're on,” Roxas dropped onto the couch, and started figuring out how to navigate the game he'd chosen.

He'd never actually played this one. Axel wordlessly selected a character he'd practiced with, leaving Roxas to guess at the characters – the guy with the sword, that seemed like a safe bet to settle on – and the arena of choice was randomized.

Roxas quickly found, in round one of three, that mashing the buttons in an array of combinations was not the most useful strategy.

“Ugh,” he grimaced as his character took several hits in succession, discovering which button meant 'dodge' and proceeding to spam it as much as he was allowed. His health bar was reduced by half, before he found an opportunity to go on the offensive.

Axel crouched his character down, at the same time Roxas's launched into the air and stumbled upon his character's 'finishing move', the animation changing dramatically for the duration of the attack...

Except it missed, and that was  _extremely annoying_ .

“You _suck_ at this,” Axel crooned, attacking from the low point and sucker-punching him into oblivion.

Round one was his. Roxas swore.

“Like I said,” Axel almost purred. “You suck.”

“I was just getting used to it,” Roxas shot at him. “There's two more rounds, still.”

“I'm sure there'll be a vast improvement,” Axel sounded confident, turning his attention back to the television. This time, Roxas was faster; the second the announcer called 'Fight!', he was _ready_.

He was ready and wearing Axel's health down with single attacks, but that was a legitimate strategy – how the fuck had he done that combo? Axel was blocking, making every hit worth half, and every time he did get a hit in, it was from one of his stupid fucking combo attacks. Like he was so fucking good at video games, Roxas glowered. Anyone could memorize a sequence of buttons.

Seriously, what the hell had that finishing move  _been_ ...

He had his character jump over Axel's, though, executing a simple one from there. Axel breathed out a curse, trying to get his character back on his feet, but that was perfectly good enough. An excellent opportunity, Roxas grinned. He had his character strike from above, taking away a good chunk of Axel's health, and taking the last bit away with a low strike of a sword.

“...Fuck,” Axel sighed, in tandem with the death scream.

“Who sucks?” Roxas was practically flush, from victory, and was eager to get to the third round.

“Still you,” Axel flexed his fingers. Roxas pushed him with his foot.

Axel started off with a rapid combo that put Roxas's character on his back, making the real guy in question groan in frustration. He could get his guy to dodge, though; rolling out of the way to recover, that was good! That was a valuable discovery. Roxas sat up straighter.

So now he was kind of blindly mashing buttons, but it was working. He'd broken through one of Axel's combo attempts, doling out damage, and he risked a glance at Axel's face. Roxas laughed, Axel's concentration writ all over.

“See if you feel like laughing, once you lose,” Axel taunted, and completed the attack he'd been attempting for the last forty seconds. It landed, but Roxas went back to his strategy of jumping-to-dodge, and suddenly it was very difficult to land another hit.

He'd get the upper hand, that way. Axel swore under his breath indistinctly, and considered taking another less-honest course of action.

Hm... He'd need to take his hand off the controller...

Whatever, it'd be worth it if it threw Roxas off his game.

One hand slid between Roxas's legs, making him start so badly that he nearly dropped his controller. “Axel -”

Axel smirked, pressing buttons as fast as he could with his thumb. Roxas's health bar was depleting, fast.

Last-ditch effort. Roxas shoved Axel hard, toppling him off the couch and sending the controller clattering off.

“ _Shit_ -” Axel grabbed for it, but Roxas was shouting victoriously and attacking without mercy. The death scream sounded and third round ended.

Roxas's swordsman was going through the victory pose animation, the smug fictional bastard.

Axel growled. “I know I started it, but... Cheater.”

Roxas was laughing so hard that he was nearly in danger of falling off the couch, himself. “I don't remember any rules being established,” he managed to get out.

“That was gonna be _my_ excuse...”

Roxas shrugged, self-satisfied and snickering. Axel sat up on the floor, running a hand through his hair and looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Well, no point in being a sore loser. He was over it. Roxas's partway-open shirt and slightly reddened face soothed the burn of defeat.

“What do you want to do, then? Your prize.”

Roxas hadn't actually had much time to give it thought, and considered now. “Damn, so many possibilities...”

“Haven't got all night,” Axel arched an eyebrow teasingly.

“...What would you have picked?” Roxas inquired. He at least concluded that he was rather intrigued by keeping him on the floor, like that.

“Not telling,” Axel purred. “Might keep it in reserve, for the next time.”

“Even though you know I'm a cheater?”

“So am I,” he pointed out without a trace of shame.

“Then I guess the real question is who's worse,” Roxas mused.

“We both play dirty,” Axel commented, and seemed kind of pleased by that. “If I'd won, though, I'd punish you for it. Still might.”

Roxas laughed, but it lacked breath. The warmth was back. Thank god, he was worried that awkward spot earlier might have destroyed it completely. “That does sound interesting...” He pondered for another moment. “I think I want to see you strip.”

“That's it? A striptease?” Axel went for his shirt immediately. “Tamer than expected.”

“That's part one,” Roxas settled back comfortably. “And I expect the sexiest striptease of my life.”

Axel almost snickered, eyes lowering a little and slowing down. He moved to be on his knees, spread for balance, and brought the hem of his shirt up methodically. The t-shirt hid how drastic the curve was, between his hips and firm stomach.

Roxas was quite happy to see it go, smile growing as he watched.

The fabric eased upwards, showing off little bruises around Axel's nipples that had yet to fade. Axel's arms went up and the shirt followed the rest of the way, being dropped on the floor. There were other marks, littered around Axel's collarbone and shoulders. They looked kind of out of place, when he didn't have that just-fucked look glazing his eyes, but that was alright by Roxas. He could put that look back on his face.

Not that his current expression was disappointing. Axel's gaze had dropped, obviously looking between Roxas's legs and licking his lips deliberately, sliding forward a bit.

That made it  _really_ tempting to have him... _do_ something. But he could hold out.

Axel's long fingers worked open his jeans, next. He took a moment to indulge, running a palm over his clothed cock before catching his thumbs on the belt line and sliding them down, over his hips.

They didn't make it all the way down before Roxas interrupted, “Wait, that's good.”

Stopping immediately, Axel bit down on a smirk. His jeans were...uncomfortable, blood having flown down and making him almost halfway-hard.

“...Beating you made me thirsty.” Roxas's eyes traveled down Axel's body. “Bring me something.”

“Water? Beer? Soda?” Axel supplied, only being _sort of_ a smart-ass.

“Whatever,” Roxas waved a hand, uncaring, and watched him get back up. Axel stretched, purposefully showing off every line of his body, before going to the kitchen.

Not beer, he determined. Offering beer to a minor was  _bad_ . The only thing worse would be to actually get him one. Axel took a soda from the fridge and came back, kneeling in front of Roxas and holding out the can to him.

“This good?”

“It'll do,” Roxas stared at the can for a second, then at him. “Well, open it.”

He was kind of getting into the bossy tone. Axel's lips twitched, failing to suppress a smile, and he opened the can.

“ _Thank_ you,” Roxas took it, then, and set it aside after only a sip. “So, you tried to distract me.”

“Yes,” Axel replied evenly, trying not to betray either interest or amusement as Roxas raised a foot and planted it against his shoulder.

“ _And_ you forced me to cheat back,” Roxas accused, pushed down hard. It wasn't enough to drive Axel right to the ground, but it did make him bow, and Axel barely resisted.

He was kind of tempted to argue, actually, but not against the action. Just against the idea that he'd forced Roxas to do  _anything_ . Rude. “Yes...” Axel said, anyway.

“But how do I punish you for that?” Roxas pondered aloud. He kept the pressure on, liking the look of him this way. “You'd just like everything...”

Axel grinned. No point in denying  _that_ one.

“Then again, I kind of liked the cheating,” he continued to speak to himself, suddenly letting up. He removed his foot, leaning forward. “Hm... Okay.”

He'd come to a conclusion. Axel hoped he'd share with the rest of the class.

Fingers threaded through brilliant red hair as Roxas slipped onto his knees to join Axel on the floor, grip going from gentle to nearly vicious in the span of a few seconds. Using his hold around his roots to get Axel on his back – who groaned, he really  _was_ into the rougher play – Roxas settled on top of his hips and put his nails to better use, raking them down his chest.

“ _Nn_ ,” Axel hissed, arching up into his hands and the pleasing sting. Roxas's smirk had turned wicked, dragging his nails lower. “Fu-uck... Roxas...”

His nails couldn't leave such nice, thin lines against Axel's clothed thighs, but Roxas's hands still went there. They pointedly avoided moving in towards his dick, which he could see straining against the confines, now. Exactly his goal; Roxas felt distinctly pleased with himself.

“Tease,” Axel growled, voice getting rougher.

“Yeah, I know how to punish you,” Roxas smirked, taking his hands off him to start stripping off his own clothing, instead.

“Just don't leave me hanging,” Axel watched him hungrily. “That's so fucking uncool...”

“No, I'm just going to make you beg. You seem proud,” Roxas undid the last few buttons and threw his shirt aside, pressing down into his lap.

He tensed slightly, but smirked. “...You can try.”

Based on Roxas's expression, he obviously wasn't intimidated by the challenge. He raised himself up to remove his workplace-appropriate slacks, and flung them even farther away from their workplace-inappropriate activity. He was just starting to tease his boxers lower, enough to give Axel a glimpse of blonde hair and hipbones, and then arbitrarily decided  _not_ to give him a view.

Axel sat up a bit against his elbows, and might have protested if Roxas wasn't taking the jeans off him instead. He exhaled in relieved bliss, when the zipper was taken away from his unmentionables and the coarse denim slid down his legs.

“Trying to make up my mind about the boxers,” Roxas palmed him through the cotton, leaving them on for the moment.

“Take all the time you need,” Axel almost challenged.

“Thank you, I will.” He ran his hand up and down, but only let that go on for a minute before sliding his own boxers a little lower.

“Very polite...” Axel's voice had lowered, dallying with the idea of pinning Roxas down instead of enduring the teasing. His voice got rougher, when he was this horny, and it gave Roxas pause and made him bite his lip.

It just... _did_ something to him, and that was worth rewarding. The boxers were gone. Good-fucking-bye; hopefully one of them would remember, after this, that they'd been banished to beneath the couch.

It probably wouldn't be Axel. He was far too pleased and damn near weakened by arousal, groaning quietly and pressed right down into the floor at Roxas's urging. He tried to arch his hips up against Roxas, the position extremely promising, but he was denied.

“Ah. No.”

Roxas crawled over him, lowered in such a way that he could kiss Axel, if he wanted to. Or press against him, or grind, or anything, but he wasn't doing it. Elbows and knees pressed to the carpet on either side of him, Roxas hovered over Axel, but not one part of him made contact with skin. He could do basically whatever he wanted and Axel would never once protest.

Not like he was protesting now, with a longing (veiled needy) sigh.

“You can touch now, but _only_ with your hands,” Roxas commanded.

He latched to that, and fast. Axel's hands ran up the back of Roxas's thighs, up towards his hips. “Wherever I want?”

“Not yourself,” Roxas clarified.

“I could touch myself anytime,” Axel disclaimed, one hand finding his ass. The massage of his fingers began rough, but gentled, and Roxas had to remind himself that it was against the rules to press against Axel. He'd _just_ set those rules. He couldn't fuck them up right off the bat.

Axel's other hand seemed to sneak up on him, drifting up to graze his chest and collarbone before he found his mark. His thumb brushed lightly over Roxas's lower lip, making it tingle.

“You have such a fucking pretty mouth...”

Roxas's arms felt slightly weaker, and he  _knew_ he was blushing. His lips pressed together, finding he had nothing to say.

“Cruel,” Axel smirked. “They're even prettier when they're apart.”

Teeth skimmed his thumb as Roxas bit his lip, feeling his power over the situation start to slip. “You-...”

“Better,” Axel hummed, and he kneaded his ass rougher again. Roxas's hips rocked, and he had to pull back to keep from grinding against him.

“Mm...”

The hand left his mouth, running down his chest with clear purpose until they were between Roxas's legs. Thank god, he wasn't  _teasing_ .

Axel's fingers wrapped around his cock and moved slow, mercifully careful with only his precome to make it easier, but that didn't mean he wasn't thorough with each stroke. He had his palm making as much contact as possible, warm and firm and one day, Roxas would have to see what it was like to have Axel bring him off with just a handjob.

Not today, though,  _god_ not today.

“Mn... You're so...obedient, like this...”

“Your prize,” Axel reasoned, squeezing the base lightly. “Fair's fair... Normal circumstances... I'd have thrown to the floor and fucked you into the carpet, by now...”

“Nngh,” Roxas bucked into his hand, shivering. “You sound...really good...”

“You look really good... Guess we complement each other...”

His hand was starting to move a little faster. Roxas was starting to hate his own idea. He  _wanted_ ...

“Bet you feel even better,” Axel tried to coax him, delving into the stores of willpower he didn't even know _existed_ to keep from grinding into him. He just had to outlast Roxas, in stubbornness... He had to make Roxas want him so bad he couldn't even think...

“Yeah, you know I do,” Roxas pressed harder into Axel's hand. “You feel pretty damn good, too...”

Sensing that the upper hand might be within reach, his strokes began to slow. “So do something about that...”

“Ah...” Roxas's eyes narrowed. “You think you deserve that?”

“I think you want to fuck me,” Axel breathed. “Or let me fuck you.”

“'Course I do, but you look so good being tortured.”

“Damn my attractiveness,” he groaned.

Roxas snickered. “You know what? No more touching.”

“Come _on_ ,” Axel complained, but obeyed, reluctantly drawing his hands away. Roxas was finding a way to balance himself with one arm, remaining close, and slid the hand he'd freed up down his own body. Axel had difficulty watching, from his angle, but it was still very apparent when Roxas started stroking himself.

God, he actually kind of hoped to see him come, like this...

“Nn...” Roxas's forehead touched against Axel's, unable to help the way his head dropped forward and sought _some_ kind of contact.

“Let me kiss you, at least, c'mon,” Axel breathlessly tried to persuade him.

“Beg me.”

“No.”

“Fine then,” Roxas refused him, his breathing hastening as he teased himself with his fingers drawing tight around the base.

Axel exhaled with a quiet groan. “You know I feel good, how good I'd make you feel, just give in...”

Okay, his voice was such an un-fucking-fair advantage. He had to retaliate. “T-too bad... M' _so_ close... Would feel so perfect for you to just slide up inside... Might not even need to be stretched...”

He arched, a little. Roxas could  _feel_ Axel's heat, without even coming into direct contact. He could feel Axel  _shaking_ with the effort of not breaking.

The front door was thrown open.

“Hell _-ohh!_ ”

Roxas was actually so close to his orgasm that Demyx's abrupt arrival  _almost_ wasn't enough to pull him back. “Shit -” He rolled off of Axel, grabbing the nearest thing to cover himself with. His aching erection was concealed by 'Marine Fauna of the North-West, Second Edition'.

Axel simply went slack, trying to catch his breath, and made no attempt to cover himself.

Demyx was nearly incandescent, blushing bright. “Um... Should I...close the door?”

“...That'd be good, Dem, yeah,” Axel sighed. Roxas covered his burning face with his other hand, moving back against the couch.

“With me...outside, or inside?” Demyx hesitated. “Do I have to leave?”

“Again, that'd be great.”

Roxas was starting to consider getting dressed.

“'Kay,” Demyx looked a little disheartened over being kicked out of his own apartment, but started backing into the hallway. “Um... Have fun...”

He closed the door. Roxas didn't remove his face from his hand, and Axel started to chuckle.

“Least it's nothing he hasn't seen before...” Roxas's voice was a little muffled.

“True,” Axel propped himself up on his elbows.

The textbook was replaced on the table, and Roxas hesitated. “So...”

“Do you still want to, or did that completely destroy the mood...?” Axel was still laughing a bit, and he needed to stop.

“It sort of did,” Roxas admitted. “But yeah, I still want to... Just...have to forget that happened.”

“I could help with that,” Axel raised his eyebrows suggestively, giving them a little wiggle. It was not seductive, and he still hadn't stopped fucking snickering. Roxas rolled his eyes, and he cleared his throat. “I'm done, I swear.”

“Fine.” Roxas's hard-on hadn't diminished, somehow. “Guess this means a truce.”

“Does a truce imply we both skip torturing each other, and just have awesome sex?”

“Pretty much. But...” Roxas's blush was coming back, with a vengeance. “You don't have to stop talking like you were, before...”

He grinned. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Crawling away from the couch, Roxas glanced quickly at the door. “If he's not coming back... Do we have to move?”

“No,” Axel sat up. “Unless you _want_ to, in which case...”

“I remember a promise I'd get fucked into the carpet.”

With another rough purr, Axel reached to pull him forward. “I'm flattered you remembered. Thought the cool-down might've been too jarring.”

Roxas was rolled over, back pressed to the floor, and the heat was back. “Mm...”

Axel kissed him firmly, settling on top of his hips and rolling his own down. He pulled back way too soon, swearing quietly.

Unimpressed, Roxas almost followed his lips and gave him a look that read,  _'What the hell is it now?'_

“Condom and lube.”

“Ah,” Roxas sighed, and collapsed back onto the floor.

Stealing a quick kiss, Axel ran a hand up Roxas's cock before he was up on his feet. “Just a second,” he went to retrieve his stash, from his bedroom.

It only took a minute, but it was a minute in which Roxas was not happy. Okay, so maybe they should have brought the necessities out  _before_ popping in a video game... Or perhaps taken their escapades to the bedroom, as suggested... But god damn it, if he had to deal with one more interruption before getting fucked, he was going to think the whole endeavor was doomed.

Unwilling to move, he stared up at the ceiling, like the waiting was  _its_ fault. Stupid bitch ceiling.

At least he really wasn't gone for very long, and Axel immediately settled between Roxas's knees with the condom already rolled on and the bottle of lube in-hand. Roxas started to sit up, spreading his legs wider apart at his prompting, but was met with a disapproving sound.

“Stay on your back and spread out, for me,” Axel's voice went low, again, slicking his fingers liberally.

“Goddamn it,” Roxas breathed, but did as instructed.

“Perfect,” Axel kissed his thigh. “You are so fucking pretty.”

“Pretty-?” Roxas grumbled, but he cut himself off with a hiss. He raised his hips to meet the two fingers knuckle-deep inside of him.

“Yes,” Axel smirked, starting to draw the fingers out a little. The drag was good, but mostly just felt _promising_. “You're really pretty.”

“Axel,” Roxas's moan sounded almost irritated.

The fingers inside him curled, and he answered, “Yes?”

Roxas very nearly didn't hear him over his own moan, bucking. He'd brushed his prostate, was putting his focus there. “ _Ah_ -... Not f'cking 'pretty'...”

“You're so pretty you could pass as classic art, if you stood still in a museum for long enough,” Axel teased. “You're almost too pretty to fuck, might ruin you...” The fingers inside him twisted, stretching. “But mostly you're so pretty that I just want to touch you and suck you and shove you up against a wall or the couch or my bike...”

His imagination was too vivid to bear the picture Axel was painting. Roxas couldn't keep still, writhing up from the floor and choking out, “So _do_ it...”

“Can't rush it.” Axel thrust in a third finger.

“Don't care,” Roxas groaned. “Just want...”

“Too bad. I don't want to hurt you,” Axel paused what he was doing, fingers still buried deep while he leaned over and nipped his throat. “Well, not like that, anyway.”

That one might have left a little mark. Roxas didn't give a single fuck, too occupied with the one Axel was giving him. He groaned more curses, sitting up enough to lock an arm around his neck and pull him into a hungry kiss. He moved his legs to part more, aware that Axel was going for the bottle again, that he was slicking his cock quickly. They both nearly got caught up in the other's mouth, and Roxas had to break it to give Axel more room to prepare himself.

He hooked his legs tightly around Axel's hips, though. Had to get some point of contact back.

Despite himself, Axel went slow as he guided his cock inside and pressed forward, Roxas making every effort to relax despite the urge to cling to him that much tighter. Axel pressed one hand down against his chest, then hauled his hips higher to press  _deep_ into him.

“Nngh...” Roxas's head tilted back against the carpet, bending and sliding his legs up higher.

“Fuck...” Axel echoed the sentiment, moving into him _hard_ and slow. Roxas sought something to grab onto, groaning blissfully and seeking to get _closer._

The permanent inklings of a glare on Roxas's face smoothed, when he was like this... Both expressions were captivating, but...

“That...” Axel muttered low, “That face you're making, that's what I mean by 'pretty', that is so fucking hot I can't...”

Roxas's fingers snatched at the carpet, self-conscious over how deeply his _voice_ could make him blush. Axel wished he had a camera handy – and then briefly wondered if Roxas would ever _let_ him take a picture of him, while he was like this, and that nearly derailed everything into Axel's idle fantasies of making his own sex tape – but he was content to try to memorize every last detail about his face. His hips canted forward hard, and a bit faster.

All the stimulation from before was rushing back to Roxas, and he was sure he was close. Axel inadvertently pressed down against Roxas's chest more heavily, feeling less controlled when the heat was getting so intense. He was aching, in all the ways he could possibly want to be.

“ _Fuck_ , Roxas...”

That was all he could take. Roxas arched and damn near mewled, too loud to his own ears and spilling cum against his stomach.

Axel didn't take long to follow. He only lasted a few more hard thrusts, the sensational experience of Roxas's climax flooding Axel completely and prompting him to moan his name.

His legs were still tightly crushed to Axel's side, rocking weakly against him until they were both drained.

“God...” Roxas sank into the carpet, starting to get cold without arousal (and Axel) to warm him. He was rolling off of him, dropping onto the floor as well.

“That's an accurate way to put it,” Axel closed his eyes – or started to – but they flew open when Roxas burrowed against him.

… He hadn't had very far to go, so he hadn't stained the carpet. That was good, Axel thought drowsily, but then his brain was back on the track of 'surprised'.

Hey; if Roxas wanted to cuddle, he was all for it. Axel dropped a kiss on his shoulder.

“You're hot,” he informed him.

“Not at the moment,” Roxas grumbled, burying his face against Axel's arm.

Outside the apartment door, Demyx wondered if the quiet meant they'd finished, ear still tilted their way. His pocket hadn't buzzed in, like, ten minutes. Zexion had homework to do, so... That made sense.

It was too bad he couldn't just go back over anyway, he thought dejectedly. Zexion could've still done his homework, and Demyx could have sat behind him, or – oh, Zexion could have sat in his lap, looking down at his clever science stuff, maybe chewing on the end of a pen...

Or sucking on it...

Maybe, unconsciously, sliding his tongue over his lips whenever he had to think really deeply about something -

Demyx slumped against the door and sighed.

Living vicariously was the least fun ever.

 


	5. Things Louder Than Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Observe that a new tag has been added on for this chapter. Or don't, if you don't want spoilers. Fair warning also for some issues of dubious consent ahead.
> 
> Did we mention we're bad people who can't ever just write nice things?

They had studying to do. This was the perfectly valid excuse they had for hanging out on the floor of Sora's bedroom, with no intention of sending Riku home until curfew.

More days out of the week than not, it was understood that if Riku wasn't _here_ , he would be avoiding home in some other manner. Sora wasn't absolutely clear on where he'd go or what he'd do, but when he'd see him the next day, Riku would be a little more withdrawn. A bit quieter, a bit angrier. Luckily, Sora was extraordinarily talented at handling any and every Grumpy Gus, and Riku would be smiling again by the end of the day.

It was harder when Riku _did_ have to go home. Then he went from withdrawn to... Something worse. Sora couldn't even put a name to it, really. It was like Riku was so tense that it hurt, evaluating his every move, obsessing over being the best and measuring up to standards pulled out of nowhere. He'd twitch when he was touched, hyper-vigilant, and sometimes he even looked a shade paler. Like he was getting sick.

So Sora didn't like sending Riku home.

Even if everything was fine, though, he thought they'd probably spend just as much time with each other. Not much made Riku laugh, but _Sora_ could do it. Sure, generally Riku was laughing at him instead of with him like the jerk that he was, but it was still laughter.

They were pressed together, now, hunched over a hand-held console and swapping turns playing on it, with whoever wasn't in control back-seat gaming like a nagging mother. Privately, this was one of Sora's favorite activities, because it put Riku's face _right there_ and he could subtly touch his hair with his cheek and look at him every once in a while without him noticing.

“Go left.”

“I don't _wanna_ go left.”

“Then you're going the wrong way.”

“I know. I want to go the wrong way.”

“... Sure you do.”

“I do! There might be side-quest stuff this way!”

“The main plot is _right there_. It's directly on your left. If this were a real-world situation, people would die from your negligence.”

“Would not.”

“They absolutely would.”

“If I miss a side-quest, I won't have totally beaten the game! You like one hundred percent completion!”

“I prioritize. I'd rather be efficient when the world's in peril.”

“Whatever, the plot's gonna wait _anyway_.”

“It'll have to,” Riku glanced at the clock. “We still haven't decided what to do about food.”

“Oh, yeah...” Sora brought up the pause screen. His parents were out for the evening, but had left enough money for three dinners. Ventus, as the entire household already knew, would be going for dinner tonight, likely followed by a movie and some tender hand-holding.

“I'd rather not order in. I'm costing your parents unnecessary money as it is, without a delivery charge,” Riku leaned back into the bed, frowning. “If they wanted, I could get out cash and pay them back...”

“They're already not feeding Ven tonight, it's fine!” Sora mulled over their options. “We could get groceries?”

“We'd have to cook.”

“Forget that, then. We could go get take-out? No delivery charge if we pick it up,” Sora suggested.

“I didn't bring the car,” Riku pointed out. He didn't always drive to school, forced to catch the bus whenever his parents rescinded car privileges. It happened semi-regularly, for seemingly arbitrary reasons.

“I don't mind going on the bus,” Sora dove to the side to grab his school bag, starting to rummage through the side pocket for his wallet and bus pass. “I think Ven's leaving soon, we could go with him.”

Riku still looked hesitant. “Is it cool if I stay behind?” he glanced at their open books. “I actually do have to get _some_ studying done, and the only time I'm liable to is when you're not around.”

Sora immediately donned the most iconic pout in his repertoire, but had to admit that he was probably right. “Okay, but it'll probably take ages 'cause it's a real restaurant and they have to actually cook everything instead of just heat it up... I could be gone for like, an hour.”

“So you're saying I might actually be productive?”

“ _Hey._ ”

Sora started to grin, despite Riku's dryness, and reveled in the responding twitch of his lips. The only thing better than Riku smiling was watching him try _not_ to. Well – not better. Certainly funnier.

“Okay,” Sora clambered to his feet and went for the door. “I'll see you.”

“See you in a bit,” Riku nodded, grabbing his textbook to turn to the appropriate page. Sora whisked himself off downstairs to catch up with Ven and pressure him into leaving a tiny bit early. The textbook was set back aside, Riku getting up to close the door behind him with a roll of his eyes.

Then, he waited for silence. He listened hard to the bustle downstairs – Sora's cheery voice, Ven's calmer one, the two of them chatting as they put on shoes and talked about the movie Ven and Terra were going to see.

Roxas could hear them from his own closed door, so it wasn't like it was difficult to determine when they'd left. His room overlooked the front lawn, and absentmindedly, he glanced up from his World History textbook to watch his brothers go.

But only his brothers. Riku hadn't gone with them?

Roxas's eyes narrowed, suspicious.

Regardless of who-wanted-to-bang-who, Sora and Riku were practically attached at the hip. If Riku weren't several months older, Roxas might've accused his parents of lying and pinned Riku as the quadruplet. The asshole quadruplet, who he couldn't fucking stand, but what family didn't have one of those.

It was...weird, that he was staying behind, and it put Roxas on high alert.

His gaze shifted again to his phone, sticking out from between papers. It was flashing with a text notification. Probably Axel.

It wasn't that he was _avoiding_ answering. He'd gotten a handful of texts every day since they'd settled on 'friends with benefits, probably'. Nothing special; greetings, meaningless anecdotes, half-serious offers to hang out. But on Roxas's end, every answer was more delayed, words considered more carefully. It felt weird to respond to his flirting in kind, not knowing if anything he said might be taken to mean... more.

Silence seemed better than being mistaken as too eager.

But he checked the message anyway, hoping it wouldn't show as 'read' on Axel's phone when he did.

_[Axel. 6:38 PM]: 'This weekend. If I bring my bike when you get off work, we could go straight to my place and see what else we can get off.'_

The corner of his lip twitched. Roxas would probably take him up on that, and tell him off for the cheesy line in the same message.

But... not just yet.

He was still too aware of Riku, alone in their house but for him, and why that might be.

Roxas put his phone back on the desk, face down. He had an opportunity, here, and there was something he wanted to test.

Back in Sora's room, Riku waited until there was quiet. He exhaled slowly, trying to let go of some the tension knotted in his stomach, but it was no good. It was never any fucking good.

Things had been good, recently...

… If nothing else, they hadn't been particularly _bad_. But...

Riku swallowed hard, going to his bag to unzip the main pocket, then the smaller concealed pocket inside it.

It had still been a while, and if Sora was going to be gone for an hour... That gave him plenty of time. And it wasn't like he hadn't done this before.

Even right in front of him, Sora never picked up on it. No one ever noticed. It just took practice, hiding it, and Riku was never bad at anything.

Withdrawing a palm-sized plastic bag of clumped grayish powder, Riku cursed that this wasn't the most cost-effective (or high-effective) way of doing this. He preferred to inject, but he couldn't melt this down at Sora's house, and he sincerely doubted they had any clean needles lying around the house.

So... That was fine. He'd work with what he had.

His school binder, overfilled with notes and assignments, was a suitable flat surface. For a second, he'd considered Sora's bedside table, but realized with a cold jolt that he couldn't defile something of Sora's in that way. Placing the binder on top of the bed, Riku knelt down in front of it and rubbed the little bag between his fingers. He broke up the tiny clods until he could tip the powder out into a couple of short, messy lines.

He'd need something to straighten that...

Paper would do, he decided. He looked around for an unattached sheet, folding it carefully in half – just the assignment explanation for their history project, there wouldn't be repercussions for turning that in folded – and began carefully pushing the small line into place.

It made him a little sick, doing this in Sora's room... But the drug would take care of that feeling. It wouldn't affect him as strongly as he liked; in the best times, it was a warm, comfortable safety blanket, better than any mother's embrace (he guessed, anyway) and it helped him focus without the _stress_ of concentration. At least, it felt that way, at the time... But everything was clearer, and relaxed, and...

Freeing. It would feel so good, to just be content for a little while, and then Sora would come back and they would hang out and it would all feel like _coming home_ in a way that Riku could never experience without heroin. He could do anything, be anything, and Sora would be there and that was all Riku needed.

Hopefully snorting it would give him something...close, if not that feeling. If nothing else, he didn't usually have to empty his stomach, when he didn't inject. That would be good, he wouldn't worry Sora that way.

Roxas paused outside Sora's bedroom door, brow furrowing at the silence. Riku was generally pretty quiet on his own, but this was something else. More cause to be leery.

He'd re-dressed, having ditched the school uniform sweater and pants for the jeans he attributed to getting laid the week before. He wanted to put his long-standing theory to the test, but... Was Riku even _in_ there?

Yes. Yes, he was.

The sound was soft, a weird kind of snuffling, and Roxas abruptly opened the door with a false air of innocence. “Sora, have you seen -”

“ _Fuck-!_ ”

Riku had started badly, knocking the binder right off the bed in his haste to jolt away from it, but...

“... Oh my god,” Roxas was frozen, a little numb with shock. He'd seen as much as he needed to.

Whatever he'd suspected Riku of doing alone in here... this wasn't it.

But it sure as hell explained a lot.

Riku's back was against the closet door, nose clean but burning on the inside. The first line was in his system, but the second one had spilled into the carpet. Riku's heart hammered, and all he managed to choke out was, “It's-...”

'It's not what it looks like'. The sentence never made it out, because he had no idea how to explain.

He'd forgotten Roxas was even home. He hadn't seen or heard him come in, he hadn't caught the bus with them. He'd just _assumed_ he would be out, like he always was, he hadn't thought ahead -

“'It's'?” Roxas echoed, shoving the door closed behind him as he crossed the bedroom to inspect the evidence. “Go on, what is it?”

“...None of your business,” Riku's eyes narrowed. “Get out.”

“What the _hell_ is this?” Roxas picked up the binder, some of the powder still scattered across it. Riku bolted for it, snatching it right out of his hands and shoving Roxas back.

The plastic bag, where was-?

In his back pocket. Roxas couldn't get to that, that was...good...

“ _Out_ ,” Riku snarled.

“ _This_ is what you're doing while my brother's out – let me guess – getting something for you?” Roxas pointed at the small whitish patch that had sunk into the carpet.

“Shut the fuck up,” Riku couldn't come up with a better retort, panic starting to really sink in... In tandem with the haziness of heroin, the kick of it starting to sink in faster than he was used to, without injecting. Fear and adrenaline had it spreading through his system rapidly, but it wasn't comforting or calming, he _hated_ that -

“How d'you think Sora would like to know about this?”

Riku's heart dropped out of his chest.

“Don't.”

“Why shouldn't I?” Roxas's tone was acidic, triumph squirreled away in his chest and making his own heartbeat skip. He'd known, all along, that there was _something_ off about Riku, and he _fucking finally_ had evidence. “You know how much he trusts you? He should know better.”

The front of his shirt was balled up in Riku's hands, grabbing Roxas by it and pulling him forward. “As long as he doesn't know, it doesn't hurt him.”

“Doesn't it?” Roxas matched the scowl.

“As long as no one acts like anything's different, it _doesn't_ ,” Riku's hands were shaking, pupils constricting.

“Until what?” About to reach for his wrists to pull Riku off, Roxas stopped himself. “Until you have a bad trip and lose it on him? Until he finds you, himself? Until you OD – how do you think he'll feel _then?_ ”

“I'm not an idiot, I know how to avoid overdosing!” Riku growled. “And I'd never lose it on Sora!”

“If you ever cared about Sora, you'd get out before you can do something more to hurt him,” Roxas accused, and a few more things clicked into place in his mind. He'd come over with a half-thought out idea, but this -

He was pretty sure he understood _exactly_ what was going on, and what he could do about it.

He had just the right equipment to deal with this. What a stroke of luck.

“...You don't know anything about me and Sora,” Riku lowered his voice dangerously. “I would _never_ hurt him.”

“I know you're just about the worst thing for him,” he retorted, and smirked. “And unlike Sora, I know _exactly_ how you really think of him.”

Riku bristled. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know. You don't admit it to yourself yet, but you know.”

Confusion was eking through the other things; Riku was starting to feel familiar things, like the sense that he could say and do anything without real repercussion, but his trepidation hadn't subsided and it was making everything _bad_ affect him tenfold.

“I have no idea what the hell you mean –”

“Maybe you're too strung out to remember, but you've been sneaking glances since I walked in.”

Roxas was exaggerating. He didn't know if Riku had even really _looked_ at him, but he was sure he'd wanted to, if nothing else. Riku was obviously still puzzling out what he'd even meant, but he hadn't relaxed his grip on Roxas's shirt. That was fucking perfect.

He pressed suddenly closer to Riku and muttered, “Don't I look _just like him?_ ”

The grip was gone, and Riku backed up quickly, the back of his knees hitting the bed. “What the _fuck_ -?”

“It's fine,” Roxas pushed him the rest of the way down. “I'm not offended. We _are_ twins.”

“Triplets,” Riku scowled.

“Technicality,” Roxas dismissed, sliding onto his knees.

If he could think it through, Riku would have pushed him away. Or, at least, denied something. Any part of what Roxas had said. But it was both making sense and making none at all, and all he could really tell was that he hated him more than anyone else in the fucking world.

“Just get the hell out of m-...” no; no, this wasn't his bedroom, it was Sora's - “his room...”

Roxas's hands started to slide up over his thighs, and he pitched his voice to imitate Sora. He knew he could. He knew it was a spot-on imitation, in fact.

“Moving in already, Ri-ku?”

“Nn-...”

Riku hadn't been conscious of making a sound and didn't totally realize that he was sitting up to watch, instead of shove him away.

Roxas smirked. Spot on. He had Riku caught and he wasn't going to throw the opportunity away by teasing; he had a mission. He settled higher up Riku's body, settling on him while his hands roamed right up between his legs.

“Fuck you,” Riku growled. “It isn't like that... I'm not gay...”

“Uh-huh.” As long as he wasn't being pushed away, Roxas palmed over him, trying to get a feel for what he'd be working with. “Just like you're not a liar and a junkie.”

Abruptly, Riku laced his fingers through Roxas's hair and tugged sharply. Roxas kept a victorious smirk to himself, certain he'd be pushed away if he got too smug, but the pull was both good and surprising. Maybe he'd actually get something out of this, after all...

“I'm not a goddamn junkie,” Riku hissed, eyes almost slits. “I know what I'm doing.”

“So much that you're taking secret hits in your boy – _best friend's_ bedroom,” Roxas countered, and unzipped his pants.

“He's not my boyfriend,” Riku snapped. “If he was, do you think I'd be letting _you_ do...”

“At least you're not an _unfaithful_ liar.” He got a hand down the front and found skin, seeking Riku's cock. Not as uninterested as he probably wanted to pretend – good, so he wouldn't have _that_ much work to do.

“You don't know a goddamn thing about m-...mn-...”

Riku pulled his hair again in retaliation, and Roxas tried not to show his reaction too strongly. He was heating up, but his breathing was still steady. “I know what I see. I see the look you get on your face when he touches you, hugs you... And the look when he talks about _Kairi_.”

“Do _not_ talk about Kairi,” Riku hissed, keeping still as Roxas began to stroke him. He couldn't tell, anymore, if he was pissed off or turned on or drugged up -

“Why? Turn off?”

“Just shut up, in general, I might find you attractive if you don't ruin it by _talking_.”

He had to be breaking if he was admitting to finding _any_ guy attractive, at all. “Fine,” Roxas smirked, sitting up to pull the uniform pants and his stupid silky boxers out of his way. He just needed them off enough to push Riku's legs apart, and it brought him to an opportunistic position. Roxas descended, mouth on his half-hardened cock, and suddenly all Riku could think about was how much he seriously looked like Sora.

Riku groaned, pulling Roxas's hair again as he swallowed halfway and wrapped one hand around the base of his dick, squeezing.

This was better, this was closer to the feeling he wanted – warm, tingling, and knowing that _nothing_ he did right now fucking mattered. It was still Roxas, and he was still hostile, but this was good and he wanted it.

Who fucking cared? Who cared about _anything_?

He pulled Roxas off him and upwards to shove him onto the mattress, kicking off his pants before slinging one leg over and pinning him down. Every point of contact vibrated under his skin, and he started tugging at the smug bastard's shirt – Roxas was visibly intrigued and helping Riku undress him.

“I can't...fucking stand you...” Riku muttered, and kissed him hard. He wanted to hurt him, and he could do that with his tongue and his teeth and Roxas submitted, surprisingly.

He moaned a little into it, and his voice sounded like Sora's.

Riku tensed slightly, but it was good. That was good. It was still Roxas underneath him, kissing him back, but he found he didn't mind thinking about Sora while he was doing this. Sora was... Sora would...

He wouldn't sound so needy like that, he was sure, and he wouldn't kiss this way. But, Sora. Sora was good.

Roxas was starting to get forceful with him to match, sucking on Riku's tongue when it invaded his mouth and pressing up against him. His hips on Riku's felt _different_ ; he'd never tried grinding against a guy before and the sensation was incredibly different with an erection against his own. Roxas rocked upwards slowly, taking control of the pacing away, but it was still rough so Riku didn't give a fuck.

“What the fuck...” Riku broke the kiss with a gasp, scraping his teeth against Roxas's throat instead, “...are you...even doing...”

Groaning sharply to accentuate every bite, Roxas gritted out, “I cast a fucking spell on you – who cares?”

“I hate you,” Riku's hands fumbled for the fly of his jeans, undoing it hastily. “You hate me.”

“Yeah, so?” Roxas lifted his lips, and let Riku pull them off. They were thrown aside, and Riku didn't seem to have anything more to say, like he'd just wanted to make that clear in case his bruising kiss didn't. Roxas grabbed onto him tightly and nipped his lower lip hard, hips colliding. He groaned loud when Riku seized his ass, so hard that he was obviously trying to leave bruises there, too.

Riku had to wait until Roxas's teeth weren't on him, before he could wrench himself away and pant, “How the fuck do I-... I want to –”

“Lube, in my pants,” Roxas pointed vaguely, pretty certain Riku wouldn't have the patience or knowledge to prepare him. That was fine; it hadn't been very long since he was last with Axel, and he could take more _rough_.

He kind of wanted it that way. The idea of tender or attentive sex with _Riku_ turned his stomach.

Simultaneously lethargic and buzzing with energy, Riku scowled at the prospect of getting up and accidentally dragged blunt nails down Roxas's thigh as he pulled back.

Roxas arched with a high gasp, sort of hating how much that made him react but that had been _so good_ -

Fuck, had he remembered to bring a condom? He knew Riku's reputation with girls, and he didn't want anything he might've picked up...

“You would like that,” Riku observed with disdain.

“Are you going or not?” Roxas narrowed his eyes, panting.

The retort was to drag his nails over the curve of Roxas's ass before getting up, and Roxas shuddered, exaggerating his moan a little bit just to _get_ to him.

“Were you _expecting_ something?” Riku accused when he found a half-used tube and familiar foil packet, both in Roxas's back pockets.

“Don't flatter yourself, I'm always prepared.”

“Slut,” Riku returned to the bed, lacking any real venom when he wanted as badly as he did. It wasn't as though Roxas was offended, anyway. “Turn over.”

When he did, Roxas canted his hips and arched his back in a deliberate show, thin red lines left on his skin. Riku ran a hand over them, digging his fingertips in spitefully while he opened the condom and rolled it onto himself from the tip down.

“Nn...” Roxas rested all his weight against his arms, moving into the sting. He could hear Riku slicking himself, and he had no complaint that he couldn't see it.

“Fuck, I shouldn't even be...” Riku trailed off, whatever clarity he had evaporating in the face of _warm_ and _tingling_.

“Would you just do it?”

He was tempted to tell Roxas to talk like Sora again, if he was going to talk at all. Instead he smacked Roxas's ass hard and spat, “Shut up.”

“Mn-...” he bit down on his lip hard, acquiescing just because he really didn't want to go without, now, and he'd be _extremely pissed off_ if Riku took any kind of excuse not to rail him hard and fast. The head of his cock breached him, pressing him open, and when he found out that Roxas could take it he thrust all the way in. Hard.

Roxas's head tilted back with a loud moan, the throb of pleasure-ache making him unexpectedly dizzy.

He'd give him hell, if Riku really hurt him; he was sure of it. Moreover, in his euphoria, he didn't care. Riku drew his hips back and kept Roxas's still, pounding forward into him without the slightest hitch.

Honestly, Roxas was a little bit impressed that he hadn't freaked out. Also, really goddamn pleased. He tightened up around him, trying to give him incentive to get caught up in this, and it seemed to work because Riku was practically _slamming_ into him to fuck him as hard as his hatred spurred him to.

“Ah-... _ngh, yeah-..._ ”

Fuck, he didn't get fucked this rough very often, but he wasn't against it. Not remotely.

Riku's head was swimming, clutching Roxas's hips painfully tight and breathing hard. Every inhale felt like a world of blinding, rushing color, every exhale an exhilarating drop, and the harder he moved the better it was. Roxas's body responded to pain by trying to draw him in, and it hurt him too – just a little – but that made doing this _okay_. If he had to justify it, it was okay now. His hips ached a little and the friction was too strong, and it was okay, everything was okay.

He dug his nails into Roxas's back, leaning right onto him and biting down near his shoulder to muffle a groan. It was almost a name, but neither of them noticed.

Roxas collapsed under the weight of stimulation and of Riku, hips still high and his free hand going to pump his cock – he had no delusions of Riku doing it. He rocked his hips back, still waiting for him to get the right rhythm but he didn't honestly expect him to. The sounds escaping him were damn-near constant, and without realizing it, he altered his voice again.

“ _Mn_ ,” the heat spiked through Riku. “Sor-...”

Roxas could have laughed. He managed to keep it to himself and stroked himself faster, trying to gauge how close Riku was. His stamina would probably be _less_ , on whatever drug he'd taken... Fuck, he wished Riku would at least hit his prostate from time to time but Roxas didn't think he even knew it existed. The heat was steady and strong, anyway, so he couldn't really complain.

Although he hadn't really noticed his own slip, Riku's nails bit into him more, like he knew that he should be even more pissed off. In the very back of his mind, he maliciously hoped Roxas wasn't getting off on this as much as he was, because he was _so close_ to coming harder than he could ever remember doing -

The goddamn heroin was stifling that slight push he needed, and Riku was becoming desperate. Roxas could tell, stroking himself that much faster, and barely able to hold onto Sora's voice when he came first.

His groan was faltering and loud, peak intense but too sudden to be all that remarkable, but this wasn't really about him anyway.

That had been _enough_ , sending Riku spiraling over the edge, and while he knew it was good he was still made too disoriented by his orgasm to really enjoy it. His fingers were making deep indents in Roxas's hips, bucking shallowly while he spilled into the condom.

“Mmn...” Roxas felt weak, but he was considerate enough to wrestle himself back upright, making sure that all the evidence of his own orgasm was still in his hand. It wouldn't be cool to stain the sheets of Sora's bed.

“Ugh...” Distinctly less pleased, Riku pulled out of him and was quick to remove the condom. Roxas turned over onto his side, the sting far more prominent up his back now, but the glow of victory was an adequate substitute for afterglow.

“Not half-bad gay sex, for a 'straight' guy,” He observed with a grin.

“Shut up...” He had to throw the condom away. He was only recalling the spilled heroin now, and he swore under his breath, not sure where his priorities lay or how to clean the powder up.

“Which do you think Sora would rather know about – this, or the stuff you were snorting?” Roxas asked conversationally, considering.

Ice flooded Riku's veins. “You wouldn't fucking dare.”

Roxas's expression went grave as he sat up, “Watch me.”

Unthinking now, Riku tossed the condom into the trashcan under Sora's desk and strode back over the Roxas, grabbing his arm. “If you do –”

“I don't want you near Sora,” Roxas threatened. “So, if you don't listen to me when I tell you to get out, you can hear it from _him_.”

“Don't want me near Sora,” Riku seethed, sorely tempted to hit him. “But I was good enough to fuck _you_.”

“I knew a fuck was all I'd get, and I swear to god if that's all you want Sora for...”

“It is _not like that!”_

Roxas smirked. “I know. Just wanted you to admit it.”

He expected the fist across his jaw sooner. Roxas just took the hit, feeling it right in his teeth, but he didn't care. He could hurt Riku more effectively than the other way around.

“You can take it out on me, but that doesn't change that with you, Sora's only going to get hurt,” Roxas verbally struck back.

“He isn't _going_ to 'be with me',” Riku's hand had balled right back up into a fist, prepared to hit him again. “Even if I'm _not_ straight, we aren't-... And I'm not hurting him!”

He shouldn't have been yelling.

If he hadn't been yelling, he might've heard the door open. As it was, Roxas saw the bedroom door swing open first, and reclined on Sora's bed.

“Oh. Hey.”

Riku's heart could have stopped when Roxas spoke, turning his head to see Sora silently gaping and clutching a paper bag of take-out. “...Sora...”

“I-...ah,” Sora stammered. “Oh-... I'm sorry!” His hands flew up to cover his eyes, unable to back out of the room quickly enough.

“Not at all,” Roxas stretched and casually went about rounding up his clothing. “Thought you'd take longer.”

Riku felt like he couldn't move. It took him too long to be jarred into motion, rapidly redressing.

Silently, Sora slid to the hall floor with his back against the wall, dropping their food and covering his face entirely with his hands. He could hear the rustle of clothing, the two of them getting dressed again, and the shock made processing everything that much slower.

Riku...

On his bed...

With Roxas...

 _On his bed_...

And Riku. With a guy.

With his brother...

… On. _His_ _bed_.

Roxas glanced at the powder ground into the carpet, and wondered if it would even be discovered, given how huge _this_ discovery was. Still, in case there was even a scrape of doubt, Roxas played up his limp as he walked out the bedroom door.

Riku felt a renewed and sober spike of loathing, starting to follow him out to the hallway. “It's isn't exactly what you think,” he said desperately, wanting to blame it all on Roxas somehow. “We aren't-... He was...”

“Sorry about that, but I guess you had to find out eventually,” Roxas interrupted, swaggering back to his bedroom as much as his lopsided gait allowed. He felt rather satisfied with the amount of damage in his wake, basking in the idea of this being the last he'd have to see of Riku.

He could take his drugs and his denial, and keep them far away from Sora.

“Are you dressed, Riku?” Sora's voice was muffled but panicked.

“Yes, and there's _nothing to find out_ – it was an accident, or-...a fluke, we aren't...”

Roxas's bedroom door slammed shut, and Sora lifted his head slightly. “I-it's okay...” he sounded dazed, and frantic. “If you like Roxas, I guess, but-... Why wouldn't you tell me?! Why would you-... _In my bed?!_ ”

“I-” Riku took a deep breath, and it didn't steady him. “I don't like Roxas, it was an accident – a mistake, I didn't mean-... I'm sorry...”

“B-but if you don't...then _why_ would you-...” Sora was struggling. “You like _girls_ , or-...or what?!”

“He pressured me into it! I'm not gay, I swear-...”

“It's okay if you are, you know...?” Sora was more inclined to believe Riku's side any day, but after that -

If Riku had been thinking clearly, he wouldn't have shot back with, “No, it fucking isn't!”

Sora's gut felt hollowed out, and his eyes stung. “Of course it is! Roxas is, Ven is – why wouldn't it be for you?”

How and why were they having this conversation, when Riku had _just_ been...? How was Sora giving a pep talk when there was so much that _hurt_ inside him?

“I'm not talking about this...” Riku gripped the hair at the base of his scalp, looking away. The anger and revulsion had passed, along with the lingering high...

Now he just felt sick with shame.

“...I'll grab my stuff and go.”

“That...might be good,” Sora murmured, getting to his feet. It was just as well Riku wouldn't look at him, he couldn't seem to draw his own gaze up from the ground. “I just...don't know how to feel right now. You never lied to me before...”

The nauseous feeling twisted. “...I didn't lie to you about this,” he said, quieter.

“But you didn't _tell_ me,” Sora wrung his hands. “Isn't that the same?”

No. It couldn't be the same as a lie, Riku tried to reason. He couldn't live with himself if it was the same thing.

“...It _just happened_ , Sora, I would have told you if you hadn't seen-...”

“B-but if I'd known you-...” Sora stopped, afraid when the prickling behind his eyes threatened to become real tears. “...Yeah, you should go.”

Riku didn't ask what he was about to say, in no position to ask anything of him. He went back into Sora's room to grab his things, collecting everything in his backpack silently, and Sora closed his eyes.

He wished Kairi were here, or Ven, or his mom. Or anyone, really.

Anyone other than Riku, or Roxas.

Sora stayed where he was against the wall, even after Riku left, unable to set one foot in his own bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Roxas had made himself scarce over the past few days, correctly determining that Sora probably wanted some time before they could face each other again. If it hadn't been for the best, Roxas would have been wrestling with his guilt – he hated seeing his brother so miserable. It was one of the most unnatural things in the world, when Sora couldn't bring himself to smile.

But it was better than waiting for Riku to hurt him in a worse way. Roxas was confident in that. Sora just needed time.

Thankfully, Roxas had an exciting new method of keeping himself occupied, and it came with a _really nice_ motorcycle.

The soreness hadn't completely gone away, after his stint with Riku, but the vibration was nice and Axel's ass was, too. By the time they parked, Roxas was flushed red and his legs were clamped tightly around the bike, as firm as he was still pressed against Axel and the seat.

Axel wasn't in any better of a state. He shut off the ignition and removed his helmet with a subtle shudder, a little off-balance without the movement to steady him. Maybe teasing each other and getting worked up _before_ the drive hadn't been the wisest of decisions.

“Upstairs? Bedroom?”

“Sounds good,” Roxas replied shakily, all the more for it when Axel's voice was husky like that. “I _really_ like your bike.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Axel laughed breathlessly, taking the helmets.

“Okay,” Roxas hauled himself off the motorcycle. “Before I get too impatient to get that far...”

Axel pocketed his keys, and proceeded to be extremely unhelpful, kissing Roxas hard and brief. They practically pulled one another to the elevator, and didn't even make it far enough to press the call button.

“Think anyone would be too mad if they came down to get their car and walked in on us fucking?”

“No one I care about,” Roxas grabbed Axel by the collar to crush their lips together. “Mm...”

He found himself pressed against a cold wall and a hot body, Axel's hand pulling at the hem of his shirt and Roxas's going for Axel's jeans. His hands were up his chest, teasing their way over Roxas's nipples and across his ribs.

Roxas broke away from the kiss, trying to catch his breath and failing spectacularly. Axel snickered, mouth roving over his neck and tugging at his shirt to expose more skin, get at his collarbone -

And wow, that was one vicious-looking bruise.

He paused for a split-second, but Roxas didn't notice anything off. His head tilted back and he arched off the wall slightly, distracted from trying to get Axel's jeans out of the way. Axel's hands hadn't stopped moving, for his hesitation, but they came to a stop and pulled away when he felt raised little bumps on Roxas's back.

“Hm-?” Roxas's eyes blinked open, then narrowed in indignation when he realized that Axel had actually _stopped_. Rude.

“What's...?” Axel tapped the mark he'd found lightly.

“Oh,” Roxas had nearly forgotten that was still there. “That.”

“So... You've been with...?”

“Proving a point,” Roxas shrugged dismissively. “This asshole druggie closet case that my brother likes, for some reason.”

Axel pulled away a little more. “...Right.”

“What?” Roxas raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“I just...don't know this guy...” Axel tried to choose his words carefully, “Or what you two did... I mean, I know we're not exclusive, but...”

“I was safe about it, if that's what you're asking.” This was not in the least satisfying his boner. Roxas's impatience was starting to turn to irritation.

“That's not –” Axel glanced away. “...Never mind, alright?”

“...Okay,” Roxas fell back slightly into the wall, uncertain how he should be deciphering Axel's sudden shift in behavior.

“I, uh...” Axel dragged a hand down his face, the mood destroyed, any chance of arousal drying up and evaporating into nothingness. “Shit.”

“What the hell were you expecting?” Roxas groaned. This didn't bode well.

“Forget it,” he started fixing his clothing. “If you still want, I can do something for you, just... Not into it, anymore, so just never mind.”

Roxas sighed, starting to fix up his own clothing. “Whatever...”

Axel jabbed at the button to call the elevator, shoulders uncomfortably squared, pretending he didn't notice Roxas staring anywhere but his way. He didn't know why he was compelled to apologize, but he still muttered, “Sorry.”

Roxas didn't answer. This was a new, and extremely unwelcome, experience. He'd never gotten grief from a guy about his habits, before.

“...Want to just go home?”

“Unless you had any other plans for tonight,” Roxas replied coolly.

“Are you pissed off at me, now?” Axel turned to him.

“I don't get what your problem is.”

“I just can't have sex with you when someone else is obviously all over fulfilling that need for you,” Axel was starting to get defensive, in turn. “What's not to get?”

“'All over'? What does that mean?”

“If you're getting it from someone else, you don't need me. That's what that means.”

Roxas's eyes narrowed, ire sparked. “So you're jealous.”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “No shit, I'm jealous.”

“You don't even know this guy,” Roxas argued. “It's not like I'm starting anything with him. Fuck, I hate him. I'd be fucking thrilled to never see him again.”

Axel looked disbelieving. “So you slept with a guy you hate, who's a druggie _but you were safe_ , and that's supposed to make me okay with it.”

“You know what?” Roxas pushed himself away from the wall. “It doesn't actually matter who it is. If you think I'm going to change what I feel like doing because of whatever this is, then-.. Fuck, I get that you wanted this to be a dating thing, but it's not. I like you. And I _really_ fucking like having sex with you. What else do you want?”

“Those two things not to be separate?” Axel sounded like it should be obvious. “If you like me, and like sex with me, what the hell is stopping you from dating me?”

“Because you _don't own me_.”

He'd gotten loud without realising, and his voice reverberated off the walls.

Axel stared. “What the fuck makes you think I want to _own_ you?”

“You made that pretty clear, just now.”

“I want to _date_ you, not –” Axel scowled. “...Holy shit. You are so-...”

“So what? Go on,” Roxas dared him, glaring.

“So much more damaged than I thought,” he finished, shaking his head shortly.

“'Damaged',” Roxas laughed, clipped. “Really, is that what I am?”

“If you seriously think that dating someone is the same as being their property, then yes, you have _got_ to be damaged.”

The elevator had come and gone. Neither of them had noticed.

“You don't know a _fucking_ thing –”

“I don't know who hurt you, or what your hang-ups are, but that's not what I want from you,” Axel cut him off.

Roxas sank into the wall again with a smoldering scowl, his argument more or less defeated, but that wasn't good enough.

“...And I can't be your friend if we're gonna keep having sex,” Axel concluded. “I can't keep them separate.”

“Then...what?”

“Guess it's your call,” Axel's expression smoothed. “I can be your friend, or I can be your booty call until I snap and stop responding.”

Roxas was quiet. A week ago he would have been fine with the casual sex for as long as it lasted, but they'd been hanging out and doing other things, now. He was sort of _used_ to Axel.

“You don't have to decide now... I'll just take you home, alright?”

Roxas sighed. He didn't want to get on the motorcycle again, knowing that his body would betray him. “I'll find my own way home, thanks.”

“...Sure,” Axel pressed the button to call the elevator again. “Guess I'll see you.”

“Yeah,” Roxas turned to go. “Later.”

_'Maybe.'_

He left the parking garage, and found that it was colder outside than he'd realized.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you go on, we the authors do have one teensy request. Please, let us know what you think when a new chapter comes out. We're not asking for praise, just that it is much easier to put out new chapters each week when we know how readers are reacting. We would be very appreciative, thank you!
> 
> And as a heads up: we have two conventions and a move coming up in the next month, so updates of this and our other stuff might be delayed, and chapters might be shorter for a bit while we work on the other things in our lives. We apologize and will do our best to still get you new content every week.


	6. Strumming the Little Guitar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, another new tag. Also the f-word is dropped in this chapter. The one that isn't fuck.

Demyx's appearance was always distinct, for better or worse, but the impression he made sticking out on public transportation leaned towards the latter.

His sneakers were so ratty they were practically falling off his feet, and an ocean-blue-sock-wrapped toe could be seen bouncing along to the beat his headphones were cranked loud enough to project. His hoodie's sleeves were so worn and frayed that he could put four fingers through the threads, and his hair was – as usual – an upwards-styled fashion disaster. An assortment of woven arm bands and beads threaded on old string, knotted so many times it couldn't be removed without snapping (and therefore probably hadn't come off since the tying) covered his wrists with not a thought given to pattern or cohesiveness. The guitar case on his back practically gleamed, though, because like hell he'd any part of his baby's appearance come off as shoddy.

As he got off the bus in front of Hollow Bastion's primary entrance, he transferred it onto his back to carry it like a normal person, after having spent the whole ride over holding it to his chest like a mother with her newborn. The route to the science building was so well-ingrained in his head that Demyx could have skipped there with closed eyes.

He _wouldn't_ because what if he tripped and fell flat on his face or something? He'd be facing Zexion with a smashed-in nose and maybe a scuffed guitar case and that'd be basically the worst thing that could ever happen to him.

There was some definite skipping happening, though. Just a dash of jaunt to each step, and the tune he hummed was obnoxiously upbeat. Technically speaking, meeting up with Zexion today marked their one-month anniversary of their first official probably-a-date. Demyx hadn't wanted to bring it up (because who celebrated a one-month anniversary? Did normal people do that? He didn't actually _get_ how those worked, anyway, and would gifts be involved? How would he know what to get Zexion when everything he liked was _smart_ people stuff?) but that didn't diminish the fact that he was deliriously happy about it.

Hand-holding was now a pretty regular occurrence, kissing had totally happened (twice, or maybe three times if he counted that near-miss of a cheek kiss following a ten minute coffee shop date) and Zexion had totally referred to him as 'my boyfriend' in one casual conversation. Demyx had completely missed everything he said afterwards.

In short, life was awesome.

If only he wasn't so... _antsy_.

Demyx had never taken anything slow, in his entire life. He didn't have any actual relationships to compare this one to, but most of his _friendships_ had started off with a bang. A literal gang-bang, in the case of like three of his acquaintances, and he still considered them fairly close companions.

But this was different. He got that sex was supposed to really _mean_ something, when you were in love, and he was one-hundred percent enamored with Zexion. Sex wasn't an ice-breaker, or the finish line, or just something they'd do because they were bored. It was important and special and Demyx wanted _that_ way more than he wanted an orgasm.

He just...also happened to want orgasms, and all the jerking off he'd been doing _couldn't_ be good for his strumming hand.

Even getting out his phone reminded him of the slight ache in his wrist, he lamented. Demyx came to a stop in front of the lab, peering through the tiny window and craning his neck. No sign of Zexion, in there –

Or, no, wait. That was him, looking all aloof and brilliant in his white coat and safety goggles. He didn't respond to the text right away, wrapping up the assignment and taking off his gloves once it was safe to. Demyx watched him take out his phone and read the text. His thumb moved over the screen of his phone, tapping out a response without pausing or backtracking.

_[Zexion. 4:06 PM] 'I'll be out in a moment.'_

_[Demyx. 4:06 PM] ' <3'_

It'd probably be really creepy to just _watch_ him, Demyx reasoned. He leaned a shoulder against the wall by the door, fiddling with his tatty sleeves until Zexion came out of the lab with a faint smile on his face.

Zexion wasn't a very...smile-y person, in general. Demyx was totally justified in his faint swooning.

“I was curious, as to when you might arrive.”

“Did I keep you waiting?” Demyx grinned sheepishly.

“Perhaps a little.”

 _Crap_ , he'd made his boyfriend wait on him! On this, the day of their one-month milestone!

“Sorry. I would've been here sooner but Axel's been all sulky and he said he hadn't seen my replacement strings for my guitar but he actually had, but by the time he told me I was already at the store so I picked more up anyway and _then_ got to the bus –”

Zexion silenced him with one raised hand. “I understand.”

Demyx quieted promptly, but not for very long. “...Want to go get something to eat?”

“Sounds excellent.”

Now came the first hurdle; Demyx was never actually positive whether or not taking Zexion's hand was okay. He hadn't been refused so far, but he'd also never initiated or showed signs he _wanted_ his hand held, and there was always a _chance_ that he wouldn't be on-board with the touching.

“Where d'you want to go?” He cautiously slid his fingers around Zexion's hand, and almost lost his breath when Zexion adjusted the hold to suit him more comfortably. Slim fingers laced around guitar-calloused ones – he had such delicate, nimble fingers...

“The cafeteria is acceptable,” Zexion began to walk with him. “Unless you'd prefer something more intimate.”

“Intimate...”

Demyx's brain went in a totally different direction with that, and hadn't actually sent the message to his mouth to say anything. It was more of a mindless repetition than a decision, but Zexion obviously took it as such. He didn't look to have noticed the way Demyx's eyes glazed over, imagining how 'intimate' they could be.

“There is a restaurant a few blocks from here that I'm partial to,” he steered their course, and Demyx nodded vigorously. Back on track with their innocuous conversation, and not at all wrapped up in the image of the two of them...well, wrapped up.

“Okay,” Demyx cleared his throat. “So, what were you doing? You didn't look as into your science, today.”

He called it 'his science'. Zexion had learned long ago that giving Demyx the specifics of what 'his science' entailed was an exercise in futility. “Some mundane labs which hold no interest for me,” he answered. “Nothing experimental – just some smoke and flash, and a write-up to prove I 'learned' something.”

“You're too smart for those,” Demyx's nose wrinkled.

“Precisely.” Unabashedly immodest, Zexion shook his head in disdain. “However, my professor seeems to think everyone should be kept on equal ground.”

“That must be boring for you.”

“Intensely.”

“Do they let you have visitors, during boring classes?” Demyx perked up hopefully. “I could keep you company and talk to you.”

“Not inside the labs, unfortunately,” Zexion glanced at him, almost too quick to notice unless one happened to be staring at him as though enraptured. Demyx happened to be doing just that. “I should be able to finish quickly though, given the motivation.”

Demyx had forgotten what they were talking about. There was Zexion's pretty face, and then 'finishing quickly'. “Mm... Um-...yeah...”

Confusion passed over Zexion's expression, which was an unpleasantly foreign experience for him. Demyx's tone seemed _quite_ out of place, though. “If you'd rather I didn't...”

“Huh?” Demyx had gone a little pink. “No, sorry – I was, uh, thinking of something else for a second. You should finish whenever you want...”

Faintly, Zexion's smile was rekindled. He found it generally difficult to keep track of what was going on in Demyx's head, but it was nonetheless oddly charming to see him so easily flustered.

The pretty picture in Demyx's mind's eye wasn't going away, and he rapidly re-evaluated whether or not it was better to blush. If his face was red, at least that meant his blood flow wasn't all going right to his dick; this would be _such_ a bad time to pop a boner.

“Maybe your teacher's giving you boring things to do 'cause he can't keep up with your brain,” Demyx suggested. School things. School was the safest topic, ever.

Nothing was sexy about school. Not even a beautiful genius, sprawled over a desk, with a lab coat falling open to reveal nothing underneath-...

Oh my god, _focus._

“You flatter me, but I'm hardly at the level of a professor yet.”

“You're the smartest person I know,” Demyx countered in earnest. “You could probably kick the professor's butt in...smart-person-ing.”

The cant to Zexion's lips was more of a smirk, now. “I admit that he isn't the most admirable of my professors.”

“Told you,” he grinned. “If I'm good at anything, it's knowing how much smarter my boyfriend is than everyone else.”

“You're good at many things. You're a brilliant musician.”

Oh god Zexion just complimented him _and_ implicitly affirmed their relationship. This was absolutely the best day in all of history, even the stuff they didn't document because language hadn't been invented yet.

Demyx was almost glowing under the praise, a rival for the springtime sun. “You think so...?”

“I wouldn't say so, otherwise,” Zexion replied, veering them off campus grounds and onto the sidewalk. Those were facts for anyone to see, he thought, and all the more necessary to point out if Demyx was going to incorrectly put himself down.

Demyx's steps had a bit more bounce to them, but it was obvious that he was preventing himself from walking too fast; a small mark of consideration, and one that Zexion privately acknowledged.

They were at the end of the street and rounding the corner, when he realized that he recognized laughter and mockery twenty feet behind them.

Classmates. Zexion never thought of them as 'peers' – they were leagues apart in every conceivable way, of which they were all well aware. Demyx squeezed Zexion's hand.

“Professor Itetsuku not satisfying you?” A jeering voice called.

Demyx glanced at Zexion, perplexed, but more worried to see his visible eye narrow.

“Ignore them,” he instructed in an undertone, starting to lead them around the corner.

“Hey! You deaf, too?”

Something hit the ground in front of their feet with a metallic clatter and nearly burst, a mostly-empty soda can having been chucked their way. The wildly frothing liquid sprayed over cement and barely missed their clothes. Reflexively, Demyx tried to tug Zexion closer to him.

“Hey-!”

“Don't even react,” Zexion pulled him along. “Just keep walking.”

Demyx tried. It was harder to accomplish when someone else shouted, “Hope you like sharing, fag!”

This wasn't been the first time he'd heard things like that, it wouldn't be the last, and Zexion wanted him to ignore it. He could do that... He would.

It actually stung more, when it wasn't really being aimed at him.

“I don't like them talking to _you_ like that,” Demyx mumbled.

“They're only words. They cannot do anything that may have real repercussions, for fear of security.”

“What if they don't care?” Demyx chewed at his lip. “Or hurt you later, or –”

“They're spineless,” Zexion halted them outside the restaurant doors, his free hand at Demyx's lips. “They won't.”

It was hard not to believe him. Even harder when Zexion was touching him like that. He _always_ knew what he was talking about, Demyx reminded himself.

“...Okay.”

He was quiet when they walked into the restaurant – a chain establishment, but of decidedly nicer quality than the pizza and burger places directly across the street from the campus – and were escorted to a fairly secluded table for two. Demyx removed his guitar case from his back, and asked the obvious question.

“Why do they do that?”

“They're envious,” Zexion dismissed, taking a seat.

“What's being a _jerk_ gonna do, make them smarter?” Demyx scowled, an uncommon thing. It dissolved quickly into a displeased pout.

“It seems to elevate their self-esteem to think I didn't earn my scholarships and status fairly.”

“Then they're dumb,” Demyx dropped into the chair across and flipped open the menu.

“It's best to just ignore them. They'll get bored.”

Sighing, Demyx draped himself over their menus and the table. “I don't want anyone being mean to you... Which one's Professor Itetsuku?”

Demyx's head had dropped right against the paper place mat. Zexion's first thought really ought to be have been about the indignity of the posture, but instead he felt inexplicably tempted to... pet him. He did not.

“The head of the department. Also my professor in Advanced Human Biology and Chemistry III.”

“Oh,” Demyx dragged himself back up. “Bet they wish they were smart enough to get special head-of-department attention.”

“People will make up any sort of vicious rumor,” Zexion watched Demyx as he sat properly again and reached across for his hand, instead. He gave it, and wound up blushing faintly when Demyx impulsively kissed the back of it.

“At least you don't let it get to you,” Demyx mumbled, idly running his thumb over the back of Zexion's hand. He just wanted more contact, upset aside. He turned the hand over and ran his fingers along Zexion's palm. “That's really cool, you know?”

Demyx had some sort of... fascination with his hands. Zexion was far from oblivious to it, even if he didn't understand it. He knew it dated back before they called themselves 'together', though he only began to indulge it then.

It was such a bizarre thing to focus on, and yet watching how captivated Demyx was every time...

Zexion's blush was steadily darkening. “It's...really the only way to deal with bullies, I find.”

Playing with each finger, Demyx looked up and forgot once again what they were discussing.

He didn't know Zexion _could_ blush that dark. It made him think of his earlier imaginings, with Zexion sprawled out and arching under him and covering his mouth with those pretty slender fingers to muffle a cry... Only, _now_ , the light blush he was covering up was much brighter and more heady and –

“Demyx?”

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” Zexion was starting to wonder if he should be concerned about how prone Demyx was to spacing out, today.

“Y-yeah!” Demyx released his hand, and didn't let on that he wanted to sulk about the loss. “Oh, uh, I should look at the menu...”

“Most likely.” Zexion sounded almost fond, regarding him with a sort of amusement as he opened his own menu. He ordered the same thing every time, but he didn't want to draw their server's attention with a closed menu while Demyx was still looking.

They didn't resume conversation until decisions had been made and their orders placed with a professionally-perky waitress, a couple of frosted water glasses put down on the mats.

“Have you found somewhere to record your demo, yet?” Zexion asked, grasping a topic out of thin air.

“Oh,” Demyx was successfully put on the new train of thought. “Maybe. There's this one guy I know who I might ask, 'cause he might have more connections than me, but talking to him is kind of awkward now...”

“Ah... Someone you knew before...?” He didn't want to pry, but Zexion had a hypothesis as to what might make such an encounter 'awkward'.

“Yeah... I think I might ask him anyway. I can't find anywhere else that'll let me do some recording without charging me a _ton_ of money.”

“That is an issue with professional recording,” Zexion folded his hands on the table. “Do you think this person would help you get a discount?”

“Probably!” Demyx zeroed right back in on his hands. “He just might be kind of, y'know. But, it'll be fine.”

“If you're comfortable with that.”

“All I've got to do is tell him 'no' and it'll be fine. Or he won't give me the discount,” Demyx frowned, but it didn't last, shrugging instead as he reached to re-engage their hand-holding. He kind of wanted to nuzzle his fingers, but maybe that was a little too affectionate for public.

It'd also put his fingers super-close to his lips, and remind Demyx of how badly he wanted to suck on them...

“I might bring Axel,” he swallowed hard. Back to innocent thoughts, on-topic thoughts. “He's better at the smooth-talking stuff.”

“I'm guessing by your earlier story that he isn't recovering well.”

“Oh – yeah, he isn't. He's super moody.”

“Hm,” Zexion made a noncommittal sound. He shared one or two classes with Axel, and had never much cared for him. He was loud, gave the professors far too much attitude, and – on his worst days – proved to be literally destructive. Still, he wasn't hateful, and he _was_ one of Demyx's friends.

So, he would show some support and interest. That was what one did, in a romantic partnership.

“You think it's that person he was seeing?”

Demyx nodded, then amended, “Well, not seeing-seeing. They weren't dating, I think, but I _think_ what happened is that Axel liked him, and he didn't like Axel, but he wanted to do _stuff_ with Axel and then cheated on him but didn't 'cause they weren't dating? And then they had a fight.”

“... I see...” Zexion did not see. He hardly followed.

“So he's pretty torn up about it,” Demyx concluded. “I don't know what to do.”

“It seems strange that he would get so invested in someone that it sounds as though he hardly knew.”

“Yeah,” Demyx shrugged. “It is kind of weird. I don't really get what happened. Axel hasn't been this upset over anyone since Saix, though, which is double-weird 'cause I think Axel's the one who dumped Saix.”

“They were friends first, though, I understand.”

“Yeah,” Demyx started to look pensive. “It wasn't like that with Roxas... I don't know. Something must've gotten to him, though.”

“I'm sure time will help,” Zexion shook his head slightly, and wasn't actually sure in that assessment at all. Heartbreak was unexplored territory, for him, as was any emotional matter. “He'll recover. He's not the first person to have it hard because someone didn't feel the same way.”

“Axel's super-dramatic sometimes,” Demyx agreed, and suddenly wished they were sitting on the same side of the table. Snuggling Zexion just seemed like a thing he should be doing, when they were talking (gossiping) about this.

He was just happy to be with him.

“I think he's already starting to feel better,” he added, with absolutely no evidence to back that.

“That should take some of the strain off of you, then.”

“I'm still too happy for it to really get to me,” Demyx laughed, vaguely shamefaced.

Far from judgmental, Zexion looked faintly amused. “I admire that in you.”

Zexion. Admired something about _him_. That was such a surreal thing.

Even more surreal was that he was reciprocating his gesture from before, lifting Demyx's hand and grazing his lips over his knuckles.

Demyx almost choked on water. That had been an inopportune time to take a sip, although if he'd died, he would have died happy. Holy shit, he hadn't felt this giddy since their probably-a-first-date. Or, if that hadn't been the real first one, their either-a-fourth-or-a-first-official-date, when Zexion had let him hold his hand that first time.

Zexion glanced up at him, concern appearing and over with in a flash.

“S-so, um, what do you want to after we eat?” Demyx's voice was a little strangled, but regained its musical quality by the end of his sentence.

“I'd like to go back to your place, if that's alright with you,” Zexion put forward. “I could sleep over there. It's been a while.”

“Really?” Demyx's eyes widened.

“There's no need to sound so surprised.”

“Um, right, yeah, cool! If you want to!”

He didn't mean it like, _'go back to **your**   **place** '_. Zexion had obviously just meant it like, _'go **back** to your place'_. Like, for a visit, and for hanging out and maybe being snuggly if the mood struck.

Not sex. It was way too early for sex. They hadn't even made out.

Unless he meant to go back to Demyx's place _to_ make out... Their former kisses had been so sweet and chaste and so, so nice, but oh god kissing him long and deep would be -

“Although, will it be a problem if Axel's around?”

“No! He can leave,” Demyx fumbled with his phone, getting it from his pocket. “He should probably get out of the apartment anyway. You know, to make him stop moping.”

“That's probably true,” Zexion's hand slid from Demyx's naturally, letting him send his text and taking the opportunity to pick up his neglected glass of water, taking a sip with less coordination than anticipated. Zexion's tongue caught the spill down the glass, gently licking the short distance up to the rim, and having no idea what problem Demyx now had.

Demyx's thumbs rapidly flew over his touch-screen.

_[Demyx. 4:31 PM] 'Dude u have to get out of the apartment like right now'_

_[Demyx. 4:31 PM] 'and all night if you can please please please'_

_[Demyx. 4:31 PM] 'i might get to make out tonight omg'_

_[Axel. 4:32 PM] 'Fuck you and fuck your happiness.'_

Demyx tucked his phone back into his pocket, right next to his 'Little Guitar', which was trying to make a blanket tent in his jeans and succeeding.

Zexion remained oblivious, and picked up their conversation from their earlier stopping point, starting to explain the premise behind the uninteresting lab report they'd been assigned in his Biology course. Apparently he'd decided to give it one more go, at helping Demyx understand what 'his science' entailed.

If only he knew that hearing him talk nerdy only made Demyx find him even _sexier_.

At least he didn't have to stand up for a while, but seeing as he probably wasn't going to get an opportunity after their early dinner to jack off, maybe making out wouldn't be the best idea after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We acknowledge that we're cruel for our timing. We embrace it, even.


	7. All Around Me Are Familiar Faces

In order to eat a family-size ice cream sundae all on one's lonesome, someone needed either an incredible constitution or an emotional hangover that just won't quit.

Sora was pretty much the self-made champion of sugar ingesting. He could handle obscene quantities of the stuff without getting a stomachache, though his teeth didn't always fare quite as well. So, he had the 'constitution' part well in-hand, and even if he hadn't...

This was the sort of lasting hurt that required at least another week more of mourning and ice cream. Still, he kind of wished he hadn't come alone, now that he was here and his half-eaten sundae was more cream than ice. Sure, when he'd gone out _initially_ , he'd made a point of coming alone. His available options had been Roxas (no) or calling Riku ( _no_ ). Alone was the _only_ choice.

But any sort of company would have made this less depressing.

So busy pouting down at the table, Sora almost missed his window for company. However, seeing as Axel was on the lookout for one particular familiar face, it would have been hard _not_ to spot Sora and his cloud of gloom. The ice cream parlor may have been garishly painted in primary colors everywhere from the walls to the round-edged wooden furniture, but a sulk that powerful practically turned everything in the kid's proximity to a dreary grayscale.

He'd been kicked out of his apartment while Demyx engaged in some sordid cuddling, and he had nowhere _else_ he could think of to be.

Thus, Axel dropped into the booth seat across from a complete stranger, holding a wrapped bar of sea-salt ice cream, and drawled, “So...”

Sora raised his watery eyes and almost choked on a mouthful of sprinkles.

Axel lifted on eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sora swallowed heavily. “Um... Who are you?”

“Name's Axel,” he began plucking the wrapper off his cold confection. “You look almost exactly like a guy I almost dated.”

“You might be surprised,” Sora dragged his sleeve across his eyes, sniffling so pitifully that Axel would have bought him a soft-serve cone and a teddy bear if he didn't already have one of those things. “That's not the first time I've heard that.”

The full weight of Axel's torso was put upon his elbow as he leaned into the table and sighed. “I wish I _was_ surprised.”

The newcomer dredged up just enough curiosity in Sora that he found the strength to pull himself out of his downward emotional spiral for a moment and look him over. He looked... youngish, though still definitely older than himself, and Roxas by that token. He also appeared to have exactly the sort of punk-like style that would have made their parents fret with disapproval - the kind Roxas tended to favor, in other words.

But what stood out at the moment was just how  _tired_ he appeared to be. His lanky figure was hunched unnaturally low both to fit in the squat chair and rest heavily on the table, and had the defeated look of someone who had just run a very long distance only to discover he'd been going the wrong way all the time.

Sora had seen this before. Chances were getting better by the second they had the very person he was thinking of in common.

“So...what was his name?” Sora inquired, even though he was pretty sure he already knew it. 'Axel' – he thought the name was vaguely familiar, but couldn't remember exactly.

“Roxas.”

“I thought it might be,” Sora echoed Axel's sigh and stared down into his ice cream.

“... Break-up?” Axel guessed, taking a bite out of his ice cream bar.

“... Not even...”

It really wasn't any of his business, but seeing as he still had nothing better to do and had practically volunteered his company, Axel figured he could lend an ear to a kindred spirit. “What happened?”

Sora's expression slowly crumpled. Axel was concerned he might cry, and when he wrangled his voice, he was almost wailing. “It's not fair! I thought he was _straight!_ ”

Axel cringed. “Crush on a stealth-gay? Those are brutal...”

Something in the phrasing inspired a flicker of amusement through the misery, and Sora managed a small, second-long smile. “But... Even when I found out, he still said he wasn't gay!”

“Was there margin for error? Like, how gay was the gay action in question?”

All traces of the smile were gone and Sora was giving him a look he might call 'sour'.

“He had sex with my brother.”

Axel damn near wasted his ice cream bar, nearly letting it drop out of his hand. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed, and then had a sudden, _very_ unwelcome image of Roxas's back, torn-up from nails... And his neck...

“ _That's_ who he – ”

“ _In my bed!_ ”

Axel's eyes widened. “ _Dude_.”

“I know!” Sora whined.

“That's just sick.” Axel shook his head in stunned disgust, taking another bite of ice cream.

“I totally had first dibs, too!” Sora dragged his spoon through his sundae goop, staring down at it unhappily. “We've been friends since forever. If he was going to be gay, why wouldn't he tell me?!”

“Maybe he's so deep in the closet, he's convinced himself he's straight. Despite actually screwing a guy.” Axel slumped down his seat. “Roxas, of all guys. What the fuck... On your _bed_ – What'd they do, kick you out of your room?”

“I wasn't home...”

Axel made a sound of disgust, still stuck in his visual replay of discovering those marks. Maybe the sex had been so violent due to closet-case aggression...

Sora's eyes widened in sudden realization. “D'you think – 'Cause Riku said he'd stay home while I was out... Maybe he did really plan it? I mean, he said it was an accident, but...”

“From the sounds of it, it was more Roxas's idea,” Axel couldn't help but sound vaguely depressed about that.

“I guess that's why you're mad at Roxas, right?”

“Essentially.” Axel watched the first signs of his ice cream starting to liquify. “ _He's_ the one who went into this making assumptions. I mean, who the fuck arranges to meet up with a guy _just_ for sex without making that clear? If he wasn't interested in actually _dating_ me, he should have _said_ so...”

“ _Oh_ ,” Sora winced. “Yeah... Roxas is kind of...like that.”

“And then he acts like _I'm_ the one being unreasonable for being jealous that he went and hate-screwed a guy...”

“I'm sorry,” Sora set his spoon down slowly. “Did you really like Roxy that much?”

“'Roxy',” Axel echoed with a faint smirk, but his amusement didn't last. “...I don't actually know. I think I would have, is the thing. Like we could've really been...”

He trailed off, and then his scrap of a conscience kicked in. “I shouldn't be complaining. He's _your_ brother, and he went and banged your non-hetero crush.”

Sora shrugged faintly. “Well... That sort'a thing from Roxas doesn't really surprise me anymore... Not that I'm not still mad at him,” he quickly clarified, “but _Riku_... I have no idea why Riku would do that!”

What was it Roxas had said? Axel was pretty sure his exact words had been 'asshole druggie closet case'. “... No offense to your taste in guys, but he sounds like a dick, to me. Why d'you like him?”

“He's not – really,” Sora immediately leapt to his defense. “I mean, he can be kind of a jerk but I think his heart is good, in the end – and it's not easy for him, either. Anyway, he's still my best friend. This is just...”

Sora tried to find the words, and his shoulders drooped. “...The first time he's really let me down.”

Axel wasn't aware his heart could pang. He didn't actually know for sure whether or not he was capable of sympathy.

“... Maybe he's confused.”

“Maybe,” Sora murmured. “But why doesn't he think he can come to me? I'm like, the best at talking about stuff!”

Axel shrugged. “If it were me, I'd keep it on the down-low if I had a thing for you. Maybe Roxas was the rebound.”

He regretted saying that. His expression darkened a little, not liking that thought.

“Rebound?” Sora repeated, uncomprehending.

“You know. Where a guy thinks he can't have you, so he takes a substitute for a spin. Hopes he can get over you that way.”

Maybe _that_ was what he needed...

Sora didn't appear to totally _get it_ , but the important gist had gotten through. “... So... You think Riku likes me?!”

“Why wouldn't he?” Axel raised his ice cream to his mouth. “You're cute, you've been his friend for ages...”

Not having considered that as a possibility, Sora needed a second to process what was probably the most earth-shattering theory he'd ever had put to him. His consideration of it was accompanied by a faint blush. “But...then... Wait,” his hands tangled in his hair, head falling to the table with a moan. “Now I'm even more confused!”

Axel swallowed a bite of sugary sea-salt. “I think you have to talk to him about it, even if you _are_ still pissed. Which you should be, because what the fuck.”

Shifting to rest on his arms, Sora pouted. “Maybe that's not a good idea... Riku says being gay isn't okay for him. What if he hates me for it?”

“He can't hate you _that_ much for it. He _did_ screw a guy.”

That definitely wasn't comforting, but Sora wasn't sure if felt worse or wanted to laugh. Instead, he sighed after a too-long pause.

“His hair is _perfect_ ,” he informed Axel.

“How perfect? Like, 'I want to touch it but I dare not damage something so pristine' perfect, or 'I want to sleep naked draped in a veil of it' perfect?”

“Both. At the same time.”

“Huh.”

Axel took another bite of ice cream, savoring it properly this time, while Sora's eyes briefly glazed over as he got caught up in fantasizing. Eventually, though, Sora pushed himself up off the table. “M'sorry about Roxas, though. He should have at least told you he thought it was okay to be with other guys...”

“Yeah,” Axel muttered, glancing up. “... Did something _happen_ , to make him so...anti-dating?”

“... If I knew, I'd tell you, but Roxas doesn't talk to me about this stuff,” Sora bit his lip. “Since last year he's been with a lot of guys, and most of them – no offense, I mean – not very good ones. Like, you're actually kind of _young_ for him. And he meets up with them pretty often for a little while, until he gets mad at them or tired of them for one reason or another...”

Axel's frown steadily deepened. “This wouldn't suck so much if he weren't so goddamn pretty,” he groaned.

Sora opted to overlook that, to some degree. “But maybe it's just not right, if you want different things,” he suggested.

“We just really clicked, you know? Or-... I thought we did.”

“Well, I can see why Roxas would like you, but...” Sora reddened on his brother's behalf. “He's got kind of a reputation, you know?”

“I don't, actually,” Axel raised an eyebrow. “What reputation?”

Sora's blush got darker. It would not have had to, if Roxas had any shame of his own. “Well, the guys he's been with talk about him... I thought, maybe you would've heard from someone...”

“Nah,” Axel shook his head. “Maybe if I'd met him through friends, or something...”

“Wow,” Sora was surprised. “Even I knew what people say about him...”

Axel was starting to get some inklings of paranoia. “What do people say?”

“Like...that's he's kind'a sweet at first and really flirtatious and stuff, and, um... Good for...” Sora was having trouble getting the words out, “Uh, for sharing. But if you hold onto him too long, he'll start acting all weird and rebellious and just get more moody until he'll just disappear... Usually without warning.”

The sense of foreboding creeping up on Axel was pretty nonsensical, since he pretty effectively ended their whole 'sex buddies' thing, but damn if he wasn't feeling it anyway. “Fuck, that would've been beneficial to hear, before...”

“There's even this, uh, thing they call him... B-but I can't say it.”

“You _have_ to tell me, now, c'mon.”

“It's way too embarrassing. He'd hate me if he knew I knew.”

“C'mon,” Axel wheedled.

“No!” Sora's head went back on the table. “Ask someone else!”

Axel sighed dramatically. “Alright, but it's gonna drive me crazy until I know.”

Slowly, Sora lifted his head again, practically dizzy with all the blood rushing to his cheeks. Or, maybe his forehead's reacquainting with the table was the root of that. “Anyway... The one thing I know for sure about Roxas is that he's totally obsessed with doing everything on his own.”

“Like I _wouldn't_ respect that,” Axel put his melting ice cream onto his discarded wrapper, giving up on the remains. “He freaked on me, last time we talked. Said I didn't 'own' him. No _shit_ I don't.”

“Ouch,” Sora cringed. “He said something kind'a like that to our parents, too, when they said they'd help pay for his university...”

“Parental issues, I'm all over.” This probably wasn't a good time to talk about that one time his mother walked in on him trying on a pleather miniskirt and he had to spend the next hour consoling her and bringing her tissues to dry her tears, all the while experiencing the uncomfortable shift of denim against lace leggings. “But what does he think I'm trying to do, shove him in a cage in my closet? I know there are 'tying down' analogies, but fucking hell, I want to get to know him, not... Stifle him.”

“Maybe he does,” Sora pondered. “Think that, I mean. He never lets anyone get to know him. He wouldn't even let a guy _near_ the house...”

“... So I should give up, is what you're saying?”

“I don't know what you should do. I wish I knew why Roxas won't let himself get involved with one guy.” Sora picked up his spoon again to stir his sprinkle-concoction, an absentminded gesture. “I'd worry about him a lot less if he had a real boyfriend and not just...you know...”

Axel's eyes followed the progress of Sora's stirring. “I probably shouldn't even think about it, anyway. He hasn't gotten back to me regarding whether or not he ever wants to see me again.”

“Is that the last thing you guys talked about?”

“Kind of. I told him I couldn't be his friend so long as we were having sex, so to just...pick one. Haven't heard from him, so I guess he's taking the unspoken third option of 'forget I ever existed'.”

Oh, wow, that hurt so much more when he said it aloud.

“Well... Which would you rather he do, even if you'll never be dating?” Sora chewed at his lower lip, and seemed to remember at that moment that he could make that a more pleasant sensory experience by replacing it with a syrupy spoon.

“... I don't know,” Axel admitted. “If I'm friends with him and I start to really like him, I'm just going to wonder why the fuck we aren't dating. If it's just sex, it's fun for a while, I guess, but it's a waste of time. Won't stop me from wanting to get to know him, either.”

Sora removed the spoon from his mouth. “Then... Would it be better for him to forget you, or not?”

Automatically, Axel's eyes darted away. “... Nah. I hate the idea of being forgotten. Like I just don't matter...”

Hold the fuck up. Eyes narrowing, he glanced back at Sora. “I don't normally just _tell_ people that.”

Sora just shrugged innocently.

“Don't repeat that to anyone,” Axel instructed, leaning against the table again. “... Messed up, what a couple of guys can do to us, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Sora sighed and lifted another spoonful of goop to his mouth. “Well, if you don't want Roxas to forget you, maybe you just have to keep bugging him. I'm pretty sure no guy ever went after him for long after he stopped seeing them... Even if you only get one or the other, that's better than it ending completely.”

Axel nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought I should give him a few days, but obviously, that didn't work out...”

“Yeah, well... Roxas never gives in first when he's mad,” Sora sounded almost sheepish. “Never has ever.”

“Even though I _still_ don't get what he was mad for... But, I'll bite,” Axel lifted himself off the surface. “I've got nothing to lose. What 'bout you and your guy?”

The tiny smile was back on Sora's face. “I can't be mad at him forever. Maybe you're right, but... I don't want to make Riku do anything before he's ready.”

“You could sneak into his room, get naked, and wait on his bed for him to get home,” he suggested. “If he pops a boner, he's definitely gay for you.”

If there was a cherry on top of Sora's woe-begotten sundae, his face would probably match it. Sadly, it had been long-since devoured and thus wasn't around to serve as a suitable comparison.

“I-I don't think that's such a good idea,” he stammered.

Axel grinned. “I was mostly kidding.” Mostly.

“... I just wish I knew why _Roxas_ ,” Sora's brow furrowed in distress, again. He didn't even think they got along.

“You'd have to ask him, I guess.”

“And why in my bed!”

“That, there's _no_ excuse for.”

Sora sighed. “Thanks, anyway.”

“No problem, uh - ” Well, shucks. “Shit. I don't actually know your name.”

“Didn't I tell you? It's Sora.”

“Nice to put a name to a face.” Wait. His former 'shucks' had a twin, not unlike Roxas. “Or, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Sora grinned briefly, but followed it up by pushing his sundae bowl aside with another deep exhale. “I should probably go. My friends are already worried about me.”

Several musical  _pings_ from his phone had been alerting him of messages since before Axel's arrival, but he'd put off checking them in favor of feeling sorry for himself. Anyway, he wasn't quite ready to give Kairi the full story of why he and Riku were gaining on avoiding speaking to each other longer than ever before. The previous record was five days, and that had been over the junior division struggle title almost two years ago. Riku refused to acknowledge that Sora had won fair and square, and kept insisting he'd thrown the match so Sora wouldn't feel bad when he won every other award the school had to give out. The memory of it filled Sora with the simultaneous urge to smile and to sob into a fresh sundae.

“Yeah, go ahead. Good luck with... Riku, right?” It took Axel a second to remember his name.

“Yeah. And good luck with Roxas, I think,” Sora scooted out of the booth. “Even though it's kind of weird to think about you guys...doing anything.”

“I promise if that ever winds up happening again, it'll be nowhere near your bed,” Axel vowed, and elicited a snort.

“Thanks. Really,” Sora offered a short wave, getting out his phone on the way out of the ice cream parlor to finally text Kairi back. Axel watched him go, trying to determine whether or not he felt any better for the interaction.

If nothing else, he'd killed a good chunk of time and curried some favor with Roxas's family. That was probably a good thing... Especially if his dream for the future panned out flawlessly. Sora could give the best man's speech at their beach-side wedding, and he'd probably be both uncle and godfather to their adopted daughter (despite the fact that Axel had never once stepped foot inside a church).

Or, okay, Axel wasn't _that_ enamored, nor was he that pathetic.

He looked down at his ruined, half-eaten bar, and never mind he was pretty pathetic. He mourned the loss and dumped the mess into Sora's abandoned bowl, getting up to purchase a replacement sea salt ice-cream. He took it to-go, this time, not particularly inclined to sit around and mope anymore.

Stepping out into the moderate late-afternoon weather, Axel walked in the opposite direction of 'home', giving his ice cream a thorough tongue-bath as he strolled down the sidewalk aimlessly. There was enough around to occupy him, if he was so inclined to make a pit-stop, but nothing appealed or grabbed his attention.

Until the bar was gone and that familiar face was up the street.

Or, the back of said familiar face's head, styled familiarly and blonde.

Axel froze, staring up ahead at two people who'd walked out of square building that advertised various martial arts classes. The blonde was wearing an over-sized hoodie that so obviously didn't belong to him, was chatting animatedly in a way Axel had never seen him do, and – probably most importantly...

He was hand-in-hand with broad-shouldered studmuffin in a Kendo uniform.

Alright, so he could see the appeal, but _what the fuck?_

Axel tossed the wooden stick over his shoulder as he resumed walking at double the pace, listening hard to try to pick up on Roxas's conversation.

“ - and got totally mad at me, even though class didn't even start yet, and I was just telling the story about our date last Saturday.”

_What the double fuck?_

“At least you didn't get in real trouble.”

“I know, but I still didn't get to finish my story.”

“That isn't such a tragedy,” the studmuffin was looking at him fondly and speaking to him affectionately and this was just creating a stew of indignation upon which Axel was gorging himself. “Just means you'll have another opportunity to tell it, sometime.”

Yeah, no, this shit would not fly.

Axel side-stepped and ducked around them, a sudden roadblock in their path, offense bubbling into irritation. Fuck, if Roxas just hadn't wanted to date _him_ , specifically, why the hell hadn't he just _said_ so instead of mucking around with head-games?

Besides, last Saturday...

“You two look cozy,” Axel greeted with an arched eyebrow and a sharp tongue.

Roxas halted, looking immediately up at the big brunette guy, who was doing a piss-poor job of not looking confused. “Uh...”

“So, how long have you two been going out?” Axel crossed his arms. “This obviously started up _after_ the last time we had sex – what was it, less than a week ago?”

The stranger's eyes narrowed, caught off guard. “What?”

Roxas reddened, still looking up at the other guy. “I-I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Is that so,” Axel's lip curled. “I'd offer you a reminder, but now that I know all your talk about 'not dating' is bullshit, that just makes me feel dirty.”

“What's he talking about? You know this guy?” To Axel's slight satisfaction, the buff dude had dropped Roxas's hand to clench his fists.

Hopefully he wouldn't wind up lashing out or something, because Axel was really only any good in a brawl when he had a lighter handy and no sense of fair play. Right now, he was in this guy's camp. He was right behind him, in line to attend the wronged party.

“No!” Roxas shook his head vigorously. “I didn't... _do_ anything with him...!”

“Seriously, Roxas?” Axel laughed in disbelief. “Maybe you can deny sleeping with me, but after what happened with Sora's -”

“Roxas,” the big guy interjected, visibly relieved. “Oh.”

“I-I'm not Roxas,” said blonde protested, eyes wide and kind of jarred nearly to tears by the sudden verbal attack.

Oh no.

Axel blinked. “...You're –”

“Ven,” he squeaked. “You know my brother somehow?”

Axel's righteous fury deflated like a balloon. Now that he mentioned it, there really were some noticeable differences to them.

Like the lack of scowl and complete and utter lack of recognition, on his face.

 _Shit_.

“... You look _just_ like him,” Axel defended weakly. Come on, what the fuck were the chances he'd meet both of Roxas's brothers on the same day? And after meeting Sora, he'd kind of just assumed they were _all_ fraternal...

“I'm sorry?” Ventus looked a little bit like he might faint, and wrapped his fingers tightly around Terra's hand when it was offered again.

“I found it disorienting too, for a while, but they're nothing alike,” Terra drew him in protectively, giving Axel a cautious look. Probably trying to get a read on how sane he was.

Axel, sadly, couldn't vouch for himself after that blunder. “Well. Shit. Uh... Sorry.”

Comforted by Terra's proximity, Ventus began to smile, but with the tentativeness of someone expecting that the storm might not be over. “It's okay. We get mixed up a lot.”

“I'll bet,” Axel replied feebly. “That was...embarrassing...”

“Don't worry about it!” Ven was starting to sidle past, Terra's arm now around his shoulders and subtly steering him away. “I hope things work out with Roxas!”

Axel couldn't manage a reply, avoiding watching the two of them walk away and hearing them pick up their conversation from where they left off once they'd put a few feet between them.

Okay, so. He'd made one good impression and one terrible one. Par for the course, really.

… He should just suck it up and contact Roxas, before he starting humiliating himself in front of _every_ blonde with gelled hair.


	8. Close Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO ALL. WE'VE MISSED YOU SO.
> 
> We've taken down the false chapter 8, but in case you missed it, we posted a note informing everyone about our writing delays and received beautiful comments and support. We were stuck in an unfortunate situation that prevented us from getting chapters out, but now we're back on track and will be updating this fic every Wednesday, as we were on our prior schedule! For followers of our other stuff, we're starting back up on schedule for our other multi-chapter fanfic on the go, and also have some other things in the works that'll just come up... At some point. You know, we don't really have a date in mind yet. But they're coming. Oh yes.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your patience and your kindness. Have some porn for your trouble, and we'll see you next week with chapter 9. How novel!

Axel was never one to mistake patience for procrastination, but he also happened to be an unabashed liar. So, if anyone asked, he'd just been biding his time over the course of the week, waiting for a good night to reach out to Roxas with a fully-formulated plan in mind.

One thing Axel _wasn't_ , and would never claim to be, was courageous. So when the time came and he had his phone in-hand, Roxas's contact number highlighted, message half-way composed... It was just so much easier to abandon the text and just take the bus to a club.

His sources (Demyx, through Xigbar, through presumably someone else) had informed him that he would most definitely be looking for a hook-up tonight, and that there was only one club he was ever seen at with any degree of regularity. Exclusively LGBT, occasionally BDSM, always host to horny singles looking for one night of unprecedented passion and an excuse to buy new underwear, after they discover they forgot theirs on someone's bedroom floor.

Apparently, Roxas was well liked enough to get in with his fake ID, despite the fact that at least _some_ of the bouncers ought to know better.

So, he'd...go in there, get a drink or eight, and keep an eye out for Roxas. There was a chance he was already in there. It was nearly eleven; in nightlife-time, that was about when peak hours started...

With any luck, he'd only need to be in there for half an hour, tops.

Almost constricted by leather and exhausted by preemptive disappointment, Axel flashed his ID to the bouncer. Then he handed his driver's license over so security could get a proper look at it, rather than just wave him through.

This already felt like more trouble than it was worth.

Upon being allowed entry, Axel made a beeline for the bar and scanned for a mess of blonde on the way. He'd already downed his shot when he glimpsed Roxas, and the jury was out on how encouraging _that_ was.

Roxas had positioned himself on the dance floor to get easy access to the bar, and leave easy access for just about anyone. Axel doubted he'd dressed himself – he had on a faux-leather collar that was connected to his shirt by a thin chain, and given his 'you don't own me' stance, the attire choice struck him as a little hypocritical. He wasn't dancing so much as just moving wherever the hands on him led, and there were multiple sets of them palming and pressing him from point A to point B.

Point B looked to be the closest wall, where one of the men was guiding Roxas to press him up against it.

Maybe Axel was jealous, somewhere in there, but all he _really_ felt was offended. He was being passed up for guys like _this?_

“At least have a little taste,” Axel muttered, throwing back a second shot and sliding a bill for it across the bar. Time to intercept.

Roxas wasn't paying anyone much attention unless they were touching him, head tilting to allow his admirer to gnaw and kiss a path up his throat. Closing his eyes to block out the disorienting flashes of light, Roxas pressed his hands up against the wall and groaned, somewhere beneath the pounding bass.

Rudely, someone chose that moment to give the chain a short tug, but Roxas was too buzzed to complain. If someone wanted to get his front side, too, he'd let him slide in. The more the merrier.

His eyes slid towards the new guy, and froze. Axel lifted one eyebrow at him, expression otherwise neutral.

 _Shit_. So much for that.

Roxas turned, muttering an insincere promise to return into the stranger's ear, before slipping away to try to lose Axel in the throng of dancers. Axel was quickly surpassing 'offended' into flat-out irritation.

Following him turned out to be a task, too. People seemed to want to pack together like they thought they could achieve orgasm if they could just figure out how to get everyone else in on their dry-humping train. Unfortunately, everyone had varying senses of rhythm and direction. If only pleasure gave points for effort.

Axel caught up to him again, discovering Roxas's hiding place crushed up against a more hulking shirtless guy that may have been selected for presence alone. Still, nothing could deter him right then – Axel slid around to press against Roxas's back, doubting he'd be able to get close enough any other way, and leaned in to press his lips to his ear.

“You won't even talk to me?” he spoke at his regular volume, which was only just audible over the throbbing techno. Roxas might've sworn, if he thought there was any use in it, but an expletive was really just a stall.

He hadn't expected Axel to catch up that quickly, and the only course of action (apart from talking to him, which he definitely didn't want to do here) was... Well, maybe grinding back on Axel _wasn't_ the 'only' response he could have had, but that was the one he went with.

For a second, Axel was stung, and he couldn't even tell why. Roxas just kept moving between Axel and the other guy, hips brushing up and back in time with the music, totally natural for the setting.

Ah – that was it. Axel could have been literally anyone else, and Roxas would've just done more of the same thing. Yeah, he was back to offended.

If he couldn't actually _be_ anything, to Roxas... Hell, he'd at least be better than _these_ miscellaneous faces.

Grabbing his hips to pull Roxas flush back, Axel effectively prevented him from moving and _felt_ his full-body sigh.

“If you didn't want to keep being friends with me, we could've at least fucked a few more times.”

Roxas's head tilted back enough to be heard. “If that's what you're here for, then why are we still standing around?”

What? It couldn't be that easy.

Actually. It was Roxas. It probably could.

Giving him a little tug, Axel craned his neck, looking for a path out. The Hulk had moved on, at least, leaving a decent chunk of space right in front of them, and that gap was sure to close soon. Navigating a way out for two people was considerably harder than weaving through by one's lonesome, but building impatience and irritation eventually got the message across and the pair of them back outside.

Without the stifling heat of bodies and the pulsing lights, the night air seemed colder and emptier. Roxas hunched into himself in attempt to stave it off, grousing, “No one would've cared if we stayed in there.”

“I'm not fucking you in there,” Axel rolled his eyes, his own voice oddly muted after so much noise, but still blissfully understandable. He was getting too old for clubs.

“Okay,” Roxas drawled impatiently, “then where are we going?”

“Nowhere,” Axel turned towards him, and tried to steer them a little farther from the bouncer, who was watching them for a lack of anything else to do. “We're talking, first. And you'll notice how I didn't get you back to my place before springing that shit?” he added, as Roxas made to turn right back into the club with a curse. “That's consideration. You could show me some by hearing me out.”

“For fuck's-...” Roxas inhaled sharply through the nose, giving him the sort of glare Axel was used to seeing from his more haggard professors. “Fine. Say your bit.”

Step one and two, complete. If only Axel had actually planned on having a 'bit' to say.

“Exactly _what_ did I do to warrant being treated like I don't exist?” he demanded. Perhaps 'winging it' when his feathers had been ruffled the wrong way was a poor choice.

“You said we couldn't keep going with what we were doing,” Roxas folded his arms. “I figure that's as good as done.”

“And then I said it could be one or the other, not _both_ ,” he scowled. “Being your friend and fucking you on the side was messing with my head, Roxas!”

“I don't see what's so difficult about that,” Roxas retorted. “It wasn't just hooking up, like you wanted.”

“Because being friends who hook up is _basically_ dating, just like you were so fucking adamant about not doing!” Screw the bouncer; he deserved his front-row seat to the show, working a thankless job. “And then,” Axel went on, “you went off to screw someone else.”

“I just wanted him to stay away from my brother,” he defended himself.

“It doesn't matter why. I honestly don't give a fuck, anymore.” Axel's voice steadily rose in both volume and roughness. “The part that pisses me off is that you were basically dating me, denied it, and when I tried to give you what you wanted you fucked off and forgot about me.”

“'Basically dating'?” Roxas snorted humorlessly, his own anger on the rise. “Fuck off. If you were going to be so touchy about being exclusive, you could've said a fucking word about it.”

“Except I _don't care_ if you go off and do your sleeping around so long as you aren't fucking with my head while you do it!”

“If you weren't so hung up on dating, your head would be just fine!”

“Then I'm sorry for liking you,” Axel seethed, going from loud to sarcastic. “I was clearly in the wrong. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but I'll try to atone.”

“I liked _you_ just fine without trying to force something romantic out of it,” Roxas snapped, rolling his eyes. “I don't _get_ romantic feelings or whatever. For _anyone_. Ever. So you're not special, or any exception, alright? I liked you more than I like anyone else I fuck, and it _still_ just isn't going to happen.”

Roxas panted a little while he let that sink in. He didn’t normally let stuff like that just spill out to anyone, but then again, there had never been a necessity before. Not getting attached was really asset to every other guy he’d been with.

Axel tried not to be hurt. He was pretty sure there was a compliment or reassurance in there, somewhere, but all he was immediately taking away from that was the 'isn't going to happen'.

“I really did want to be your friend, Axel, and _that's_ not something that just happens with people I hook up with,” Roxas folded his arms in more tightly around himself, frowning. “But you gave the fucking ultimatum, and I like sex with you too much.”

“... It wasn't meant to be a goddamn ultimatum.”

“It sure felt that way,” he retorted flatly.

“I just didn't want to get pissed every time you turned up with hickeys and scratches and shit,” Axel argued.

“That's not my problem!”

“It is, if you give even the slightest damn about losing a friend. Or me, for that matter.” Axel paused, needing an answer but reluctant to ask. “... _Did_ you care?”

Roxas made a sound like disgust, shivering a little more. He was not dressed at all properly for a cold night. “It's not like I was _heartbroken_ , but I _cared_. It sucked.”

Rolling his eyes, Axel muttered, “I wasn't asking if you cried into a pillow with a tub of ice cream. I know better than that. I don't know whether it was me or my dick you were invested in, though.”

“It could be _both_ ,” Roxas looked exasperated.

“With you? I have doubts.”

“Thanks,” he scoffed.

“Don't act offended, you know damn well I've got reason to believe that.”

“Maybe so, but like I said, it doesn't have to be 'romantic' for me to like you,” Roxas unfurled his arms long enough to make quotes with his fingers. “I'm with different guys all the time, okay? I just am.”

“And that's fine,” Axel insisted. “It's your life, do what you want with it. I just wanted to be a part of it.”

Roxas groaned. “I can't be just one or the other with you. I'm too used to you now.”

To Axel's ears, it sounded like he was just a matter of convenience – someone Roxas didn't hate, and had a ready and willing body.

As far as Roxas was concerned, Axel's friendship was forfeit if he kept trying to insist he develop feelings he just couldn't.

“... Have it your way, then,” Axel held back a groan, trying not to sound like this decision was on par with pulling teeth. “Just don't get pissed when I get jealous, because I fucking will.”

“I'll get pissed if you get me all hot then cut me off,” Roxas warned, uncertain. Was Axel talking about tonight-only, or was he reinstating their former arrangement? It was vague and still irritating and hurt feelings aside, he didn't think he was one-hundred-percent back on board if it would lead to another argument.

“Just...give me advance warning, if I'm going to find marks,” Axel tried to compromise, and felt a bit like he was digging his own grave.

“Fine,” he agreed, privately uncomfortable with Axel's tone.

“... So.” There was an awkward moment of silence between them, neither one sure whether or not things were 'okay'. Axel started to fish out his phone from his back pocket. “You have a place in mind, or is it back to mine? 'Cause if it's mine, we'll need a taxi.”

“I don't care as long as it's warm,” Roxas admitted.

“Back to mine it is,” he started to dial for a cab, reaching out one long arm and pulling Roxas to him. Less than a minute ago, Roxas might have resisted, but he sank gratefully into the warmth with a sigh.

He'd be lying if he didn't say that one of the things he'd missed about Axel was the fact that he seemed to run ten degrees hotter than a normal human being. Roxas got comfortable, slinging the arm around to wear Axel like a coat (in the least creepy sense possible).

“They said it'd be five minutes, but we're downtown, so it's probably actually less,” Axel pocketed his phone again. “So... You gonna be missed, in there?”

“Maybe for a bit,” he shrugged slightly, giving absolutely zero fucks. “My 'sponsor's not exactly the attentive type.”

“Sponsor?”

“Guy who gets me in and pays for shit.”

“Like a club-centric sugar daddy?” Axel's eyebrows raised.

“Pretty much,” Roxas unclasped his arms and turned around, winding around Axel instead.

“Holy shit, you're freezing.”

“Yeah, my temperature's fucked.” Roxas put some active concentration into trying to sap Axel's warmth, and sounded considering. “He might be a little mad he's not getting what he 'paid for'.”

“We could film it, give it to 'im tomorrow. Any reasonable leather-daddy can appreciate a show of two hot guys screwing.”

Roxas snorted, grinning faintly. “I don't think he'd say no to that.”

“If only I had a camera,” Axel backtracked. Not that he wasn't all over the idea of making a sex tape – hell, he'd had that on his bucket list ever since he was fifteen – but making one for the benefit of _someone else_ was kind of a buzzkill.

“There are worse losses.” Roxas didn't seem to actually care either way, at least.

“S'pose you're right. Let's honor the loss properly, anyway. Make his sacrifice worth two or three rounds.”

Roxas smirked, liking that promise. He wasn't liking the way this felt, though. It was an awful lot like a victory, but a cheap one. Like whenever he and Sora played a video game in versus mode and he got the upper hand by pushing him off the couch – it just...lacked something.

But he didn't have time to ponder on it before the taxi arrived. Frankly, he didn't want to anyway.

 

* * *

 

The car ride over seemed to strip away the last few weeks between them, and Roxas remembered everything about Axel that he'd made himself discount or disregard. Mostly, that he was an _asshole_ and a _tease_ and shameless about turning him on when he could do _nothing about it_.

He'd started off with gentle touches along Roxas's thigh, innocently ignoring the way Roxas got tense and shot him warning looks while simultaneously arching into his hand. When he'd slipped his hand up a little to find bare skin and slip in a way that suggested getting Roxas's cock out _right there_ , he'd almost said something.

Then he'd run his palm down over his pants, and massaged like he was trying to give him a handjob through two layers.

Axel had over-tipped the driver on their way out, and Roxas kicked him in the back of the leg once the car was zipping away.

“I should kill you.”

“What?” Axel snickered, getting the door to the building. “You liked it.”

“That could've been seriously humiliating,” Roxas glared, referring more to the fact that he might have made a mess of his pants than the semi-public setting.

“He didn't notice and you didn't jizz all over the backseat.”

“Not the point.” Fuck, his pants were so uncomfortably tight.

“Want to punish me for it?” Axel smirked, drawing him in close while reaching out to press the button for the elevator. The doors opened almost immediately.

“I don't have that kind of patience.”

The atmosphere between them was becoming steadily more easy and relaxed, helped along by warmth and Roxas's arousal.

“Good,” Axel purred, and backed up into the elevator, being very closely pursued. “Just hold out until I get you to my bed, then.”

“We'll see,” Roxas leaned into the wall, idly entertaining the thought of pushing Axel onto his knees.

“You don't need to go anywhere after, do you?” Axel questioned suddenly, pressing the button for the eighth floor.

“Not necessarily. Planned to be out late.”

“Cool. If you want to crash here...”

Roxas grinned. “I was promised two or three rounds.”

“Good point... If either of us can walk, after, we've obviously done something wrong.”

“That would be a shame.” Roxas ran his fingertips up the inside of Axel's thigh, enjoying the glide over leather.

“We'd just...have to do it again...” Axel watched him, starting to move one hand to Roxas's hip. Neither of them noticed the elevator doors open until they'd started to slide closed again, forcing them to catch it and slip out quickly.

“Dem's probably asleep,” Axel searched for his keys, voice hushed as to not wake the neighbors as they walked by.

“Are you saying we should be quieter?”

“Hell no, I'm noting that I can feel you up the second we're through the door.”

“Perfect.”

They almost didn't get through the door at all.

“This is a bit counterproductive,” Roxas pointed out, back pressing to it as Axel wrapped an arm around his waist and rocked his hips against him once, the other hand fiddling and fumbling with the house key.

“Getting a head start,” he nipped Roxas's throat, holding him a bit tighter to keep him upright when the door moved. Their lips connected firmly as they shuffled into the apartment, Roxas's hands flinging over his shoulders – it was weird, but he hadn't realized how much he missed kissing Axel. Always hot, never too _wet_ – he'd had to make some serious compromises over the past couple of weeks.

The door was shut a bit too loudly and almost left unlocked, Axel's priorities obviously being Roxas's pants and unzipping them. The uncomfortable pressure was taken off, to Roxas's immense relief, and he would've paid Axel the same courtesy if his hands weren't getting held up around his ass.

He'd missed Axel's ass, too.

They were heading towards the bedroom with all the grace of two horny homosexuals connected at the lips, the bedroom door pushed carelessly and left open by a sliver and Roxas dropping onto the bed without even really checking where he'd fall. He pulled Axel over him, and he recaptured the kiss to make up for the two-second window in which it had been broken.

Lightly, Axel tugged the chain again and mumbled breathlessly, “Your choice of attire, or is this to cater to the kinky?”

“Mostly the second one,” Roxas squirmed a little, getting into a comfortable position to spread his legs apart. “You like it?”

Axel smirked and nodded. “Bondage looks good on you.”

The jeans were coming off, at-fucking-last, and Roxas was too doped up on arousal to mind admitting, “I like what you're wearing, too.”

“The leather?” Axel wrapped a hand around his exposed shaft, not cruel enough to tease now. He stroked him once, twice, with enough pressure and not too slow. Roxas's hips arched, exhale heavy.

“Mm... Yeah, it's hot.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Axel muttered, more to himself, as he shifted down the mattress to strip off Roxas's pants the rest of the way. Roxas cooperated and wound around him once they were gone, still not naked enough.

Especially if this leather kink went as far as Axel thought it might. Roxas would have to be nude enough for two.

“Want me to leave clothes on?” Axel climbed up onto the mattress, resting on his knees with Roxas's flanking either side.

“Uh...” Roxas hesitated. “Won't that get in the way?”

“I'll take off what I need to, but other than that...”

He trailed off, and Roxas flushed faintly red. Even like this, where he wasn't _nearly_ close enough for his liking (interlocked, was his liking), the leather felt good against his bare legs.

“... Could you?” He didn't want Axel to _overheat_ or anything, but...

Axel kissed him in lieu of an answer, undoing his fly to tug the low-rise hem down just enough to free his cock. He hadn't been wearing anything else under them – leather that tight rarely allowed it. Roxas brought his legs in closer, leaning back to get them up higher and feel the glide of it against his thighs.

“Nngh...” Roxas's tongue met Axel's, teeth accidentally running against his upper lip on occasion, but neither of them minded and he couldn't really help himself. Axel was grinding against him, making him twitch a little and cant his hips. Axel's erection pressed against him and slid alongside his own, giving fleeting feelings of silken skin and tantalizing additional pressure – Roxas's nails trailed down his clothed chest, digging in, intended to be _felt_.

“ _Mn-_...”

Oh yeah, they were felt.

Axel shivered with an intense spark of heat, both hands running down to roughly massage his hips and lower. “Lie back, for a second,” he instructed, and Roxas saw no reason to be difficult when this would undoubtedly be something he'd enjoy.

Hitching Roxas's shirt up before his back met the blanket, Axel put his weight against one elbow and descended over his chest. His mouth felt searing, nipping and scraping his teeth _wonderfully_ slow; it pulled a short cry that was more breath than voice out of Roxas, trying to keep still so that he wouldn't move and arch so that he _would_.

“Axel-...”

“You want lower...?” Axel's voice was a murmur, right against his skin, and for some reason that was just one more thing to make his erection twitch.

“Ye- _ah_ ,” Roxas shuddered. To his utter relief and surprise, Axel opted not to be a jerk about it, descending smoothly towards the base of his length and working kisses up to the tip.

“God,” he hissed, reaching down to get a fistful of Axel's hair. “Ngh – fuck, Axel...”

Further against his expectations, he was already swallowing his cock with a faint hum, and it was a struggle for Roxas to remember to keep his hips against the bed. He was rewarded with skill, Axel's tongue hot against the shaft and deftly sliding around the head as he drew back to suck hard.

“Uhn-...” Roxas's knees pulled up around him, letting go of his hair before he could end up accidentally pulling too hard and grasping the bedcovers instead. “That is so-...”

He was going to come like this, he wouldn't be able to stop himself, but he'd been promised multiple rounds so what did he care? Axel was descending again, sucking him off at a pace that he might've called 'relentless' if he had the capacity for words outside his litany of, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, keep going... Can't-...”

Roxas was on the very brink, eyes closed so tightly that he could see color and sparks, and that was when Axel pulled away like the asshat Roxas knew him to be.

“What the...?” With a ragged sound, Roxas raised his head a bit, dragging one arm over his sweat-wilted bangs.

Axel snickered, voice roughened by the abuse his throat had just taken. “Not letting you off that easy,” he sat up, crawling up and reaching over him to grab for his bedside table.

“Son of a... _fucking_...” Roxas squirmed, eyes narrow, indignation taking some of the edge off his...edge.

“Like you don't love it.”

Glaring, Roxas watched him remove a condom from his stash and the bottle of lube. “Just do it before I do you instead,” he demanded, which rather lacked as a threat.

“You want my dick too bad, now,” Axel purred tauntingly, getting his fingers slick and rubbing the wet fingers together to warm the lubrication. He slapped Roxas's ass with his other hand, prompting, and Roxas parted his legs further with a moan.

“I'd take your ass, too...”

“Later,” he promised, “but right now I've got you pinned.”

Axel started to press two fingers into him slowly, and the bliss of some _pressure_ combined with the heat of the leather put Roxas right back where he'd been seconds before Axel had stopped sucking him off.

“Don't come, alright?” Axel stretched his fingers apart. “Not until I'm in you.”

“Like fuck,” Roxas almost stuttered, arching. “Like my control's that good...”

“Test yourself,” he challenged, twisting his fingers and adding a third. Roxas almost choked and fought to pull himself back from his beckoning orgasm, tensing a little with the effort – he needed to think about _anything_ else if he actually wanted to meet Axel's request, which was not made any easier when he curled his fingers to hit his prostate -

“ _Ngh!_ ” Roxas bit into his lip, hard.

“Fuck, Roxy...” Axel hadn't meant to slip with the nickname, but neither of them really noticed anyway. He was stretching easy, rolling his hips and looking so desperate Axel was pretty sure Roxas was only seconds away from fucking himself to completion on his fingers. He was sure he knew the answer, but he needed to ask anyway.

“You alright to take it?”

Roxas murmured something incomprehensible, grabbing at Axel's leather-clad legs, and that was as certain a 'yes' as anything resembling English could be. He drew his fingers out, grabbing the condom and tearing it open by the corner. Rolling it on himself and grabbing the lube to slick himself up was taking far too long; Roxas found a better position to satisfy himself in the meantime, one that let him rub his flushed erection against leather.

“Mm...” he groaned, and only let himself be moved again because Axel started to press the head inside immediately. His movements stuttered just a bit, and Axel groaned at the wonderful wash of heat.

“Damn...”

Roxas echoed the sound, if not the word, still tense with the effort of holding back but not enough to tighten uncomfortably.

If it was any consolation to him, Axel thought, this wouldn't last long for anyone involved.

“Holy shit, I forgot how easy it is to want to worship your ass,” he pressed in to the hilt, taking a second to regain control of himself. “You feel perfect...”

His _voice_ like that just made Roxas's need throb so much worse (better). “Can I fucking –”

“If you have to come, yeah, if it's okay that 'm still... Fuck, I didn't think I'd get this close this fast...” Axel thrust hard, and Roxas's head dropped back from a mix of relief and the thrill that shot through his body.

The pace he'd chosen to work at was deep and steady, and Roxas felt like he'd just lost his mind for a blinding, perfect moment. He forgot how to speak, shuddering hard through his orgasm and crying out – Axel was kissing him, breaking off the sound and cutting short Axel's own breathless laugh.

He didn't stop pounding into him, and even without Roxas chasing his orgasm, it felt _good_. He rocked with each one, dizzy and coming back to himself with a heavy exhale of Axel's name, offering his throat which was willingly nipped at.

“So fuckin' close, god, Roxas...” Axel felt deliriously good, burying his lips against his neck as it all spilled over and he lost control of his hips. He clutched at Roxas, trying to get as close as he could through the high and the oncoming afterglow, and was accepted with literal open arms.

Roxas still felt hot inside, head spinning with how hard and intense that was, and let Axel's lazy kisses bring him back to Earth. “... Fuck, Axel...”

He was so unwilling to move, despite how badly he already anticipated round two. He'd give it fifteen minutes.

Axel drew back a little to breathe and allow some air between them, sticky with exertion and other more obvious fluids. Roxas stared up at him for a moment, leaving somewhat of a gap between them but leaning up enough to close one point of distance.

The kiss was gentle. Affectionate, really, and Axel basked in it until he remembered what 'this' was. He managed not to hitch, still kissing back even as his post-sex buzz faded into nothingness. He couldn't get too attached, as good as this was. He kissed Roxas back, and repeated that to himself.

In contrast, Roxas was finding it much easier not to think so long as he was kissing Axel. Still, exhaustion was kicking in, and Roxas broke off the kiss to lean his cheek into Axel's.

“Nap, then fuck again?” Axel suggested.

“That, or coffee and fuck again,” Roxas grinned.

“Nap, coffee, and _then_...?”

“This is getting too complicated. If we do coffee and fuck, then definitely nap after.”

“Coffee it is,” Axel agreed, unwinding from Roxas and offering a hand to help him stumble to his feet. He glanced at the closed door, and began to strip off his tight leather-accented shirt. “Think I need to be in something not covered in jizz...”

“I guess that's fair,” Roxas swept his hair back, looking just a little disappointed.

“I have more leather.”

That put the grin back on his face. “You're going to have heat stroke by the end of the night.”

“As long as I'm still able to stroke you, I'm good,” Axel breezed, grabbing pyjama pants to change into for the moment. Roxas flipped him off for the weak wordplay, finding his pants to pull back on and fixing his shirt. The condom was discarded and hands wiped off, with some shared humor-laced grimaces. They managed to finish dressing around the same time, and Axel led the way out to the kitchen.

They found Demyx slumped over a bowl of cereal and sighing frequently at it, rather than actually consume the soggy sugared bits.

Axel regarded this spectacle for a minute, then shrugged and went to prepare the coffee maker.

“Oh,” Demyx raised his head a little, vaguely surprised that it was _Roxas_ in his kitchen archway. “Hi.”

“Hi...?” he greeted back, somewhat uncomfortably.

“We wake you up?” Axel refilled the water in the machine.

“Yeah,” Demyx sighed again.

“Sorry,” Roxas covered a yawn, not sounding entirely sincere.

“It's okay, I don't mind...” Another sigh.

“That's like, the third time you've sighed in our presence,” Axel flicked the switch to start the coffeemaker, and for want of having nothing to do with a potentially awkward conversation, Roxas turned to watch the drip start.

Demyx continued to look moody, so Axel pressed, “This is about Zexion?”

“He's so perfect and I'm _so horny_ ,” Demyx whined, pushing his spoon in a circle around the rim of the bowl.

Roxas raised his eyebrows, unable to resist intruding despite not feeling he had enough friendship cred with Demyx for it to be allowed. “That's a problem?” He looked from Demyx to Axel. “Why, is he like, saving himself or something?”

“I don't _think_ so,” Demyx slid forward and hugged his cereal bowl, “just he's not really _into that_ I don't think, or he might be later but he probably isn't right now, not when we're taking our relationship slow and it practically only just started as far as I'm concerned because this is new for me and it's also new for him, and first relationships are supposed to be special and I don't want to rush him and it's not usually a big deal, 'cause I don't mind if we _never_ do it! Because I love him.”

Axel got out two mugs. “...But you're horny.”

“ _So horny_.”

“Have you asked him?” Roxas looked expectant, already sure of the answer.

“... No,” Demyx drew out the vowel, and Roxas dropped it at that, leaving him with that realization and holding out a hand for one of the mugs. Axel handed him a fire-engine red one with Mickey Mouse's face on it, and grabbed the pot to fill it up.

“But,” Demyx bit his lip, trying to process the idea of just outright _asking_ him. “But what if he thinks I'm pressuring him?”

Roxas shrugged, no longer interested.

“I just... I don't want him to think I only want –”

“Everyone knows you're a slut, Dem, Zexion included,” Axel interrupted, starting to fill his own Donald Duck mug. “He's probably amazed you've held out this long.”

“I knew that,” Roxas chimed in, acknowledging.

Demyx looked a bit wounded, and went quieter. “You think Zexy thinks I'm...?”

Axel groaned, replacing the coffee pot. “I don't know, maybe? Probably not? Either way, he wouldn't be with you if he thought it was all about sex, for you, so you should just ask him.”

“He's probably wondering why you haven't. I would be,” Roxas commented, starting to sip his coffee while it was still scalding.

“You haven't got anything to lose,” Axel looked around for the sugar. Roxas might have commented there, too, since he was pretty certain Demyx _did_ have something to lose, but that was none of his business.

Demyx considered unhappily. “...Maybe...”

If Zexion was offended or rushed or pressured-... Yeah, actually, he had _everything_ to lose. If he lost the best thing to ever happen to him over something as minor as a case of blue balls...

“For now, your situation will only get worse if you listen to us have sex like a voyeur.” Axel stirred his coffee, and lifted the mug to take a testing sip.

Just sweet enough without becoming obscene. Perfect.

“I wasn't trying to!” Demyx protested. “You're loud.”

“You're a musician,” Axel countered carelessly. “Appreciate our vocal work for what it is, then put on a pair of headphones.”

Demyx grumbled unintelligibly. Axel glanced from him to Roxas, and caught him mid-glimpse.

Roxas was already feeling more alert, and had been stealing looks at him with increasing frequency. Axel hastened to match his drinking speed, and the two of them abandoned their mugs by the sink. Roxas gave him a meaningful smirk before heading back in the direction of the bedroom, and Axel clapped a hand on Demyx's shoulder.

“Good luck with your sexual frustration,” he bade him genially on his way out, and Demyx saw him off with an insincere 'thanks'.

Roxas was waiting and unhooking the decorative collar to take his shirt off, arousal running him back up to warm. It was helped along by Axel ditching the pants the moment he was back through the door, throwing them to the corner and approaching Roxas to kiss him briefly.

“How're we doing round two?” he inquired.

“You have more leather, you said,” Roxas stole another one, mind on his former talk of kink. “Anything else?”

“Can check my closet. I've got _some_ recreational shit I reserve for special occasions.”

“Yeah?” Roxas trailed his fingers up his chest. “Sounds fun. Does this count as a special occasion?”

“Definitely,” Axel smirked, drawing him towards the closet and pulling it open. The apparel in there was pretty much an even fifty-fifty split between leather and everything else, which Roxas let out a whistle at.

“Impressive,” he looked pleased.

“I know what I look good in,” Axel replied modestly, pushing clothing aside to get to a low shelf. He had a plain black box with a variety of cuffs and collars, and he knelt down to pull it out of the other closet crap while Roxas idly toyed with the closest leather article.

Getting up to put the box aside on the bedside table, Axel returned to drape his arms around Roxas from behind and nip his earlobe. “Got a preference already?”

“Just curious about what you've got.” He brushed his fingers up and down a few inches of the material.

“Leather-wise, or toy-wise?”

“Both, though I'd rather see the leather _on_ you.”

Axel reached past him, and took something off a hanger with a short tug. The leather jacket was long; it'd dwarf Roxas if he put it on, but probably fell to Axel's knees or lower. Roxas bit his lip, slinking out of his grip to watch him put it on.

“I'll try something that allows for a little more movement...” Axel mused, putting it on and only doing it up partially. It wasn't as large as Roxas thought – long, but closely fitted, which was all the more perfect as Roxas was concerned. He stepped closer, briefly on one knee to start running his hands up the full length of the jacket bottom-up. Axel remained completely still.

“Mm... I like it,” he got up, one hand running up over Axel's shoulder while the other dove to undo his jeans again.

“I'll have to wear it more often,” Axel watched the lower hand with great intrigue, but Roxas didn't push them down right away. He leaned up and tugged Axel down by the jacket collar, sealing their lips and engaging his tongue in a thorough kiss.

“Mn,” Axel nipped his lower lip. “Want you naked.”

Despite the shivers under every inch of his skin, Roxas sounded almost casual. “I want you under me, worshipping me until you can't remember anything but my name.”

A switch flipped in Axel's brain and threw something off-kilter. His ability to remain standing, or speak words, or something. However, it did manage to send a strong signal to his cock, which perked right up, having totally forgotten about the orgasm it had already _just had_ something like ten minutes ago.

“That's,” Axel almost groaned, “yeah. That.”

Roxas smirked, satisfied to leave him standing there with a hard-on and a look of surprised wanting on his face, while he went to check out the box of toys. He was obviously more fond of the BD than the SM, plenty of fur-lined cuffs and chains within, and Roxas's attention was naturally drawn to an attractive leather collar.

Axel came up behind him, not a fan of the whole 'distance' thing when Roxas was _right there_ and all sexy, and began kissing down his throat. Roxas continued inspecting the box with a contented sound, swinging a favored pair of cuffs around one finger. The moment felt strangely...intimate, despite the circumstances, but he snapped out of it and pulled out the collar.

“For me or for you?” Axel murmured. He wouldn't protest one way or the other.

“I'll wear it if you wear the cuffs,” Roxas almost whispered.

“Deal,” he purred, and accepted the collar as Roxas passed it back to him – Axel was occupied with his neck anyway, and he'd seen a different pair of cuffs that interested him.

Axel kissed his nape before securing the collar, the black leather stark and heavy-looking. He liked the look of it already, and a lot better than the flimsy decorative thing that came with Roxas's shirt.

Roxas inhaled deeply, appreciating the way it hugged his skin not too tight, and the breath became a soft hiss when Axel nipped the skin right below the leather. He basked in that for a second, then turned abruptly to give him a hard shove onto the bed.

Any other time, Axel might have resisted that. As it was, he dropped back onto it without the least bit of resistance, hungrily watching Roxas ditch his jeans and hang the pair of cuffs he wanted over his shoulders. The chain that connected them was a few feet long, normally hell to untangle until Axel had started storing them in a separate plastic bag.

Axel smirked. He liked that choice.

Roxas climbed over the bed and kissed him hard, letting the contact linger, and Axel touched him everywhere while he still had the chance. His chest, the collar, his waist, his hips, his cock. Roxas straddled his waist, forced to bend to keep the kiss strong, and slid both hands through Axel's hair. They pulled a little by the roots, sending another wave of tingling through his body, before Roxas suddenly broke the kiss and snatched Axel's wrists to draw them above his head.

Axel initially tried to follow his lips, but upon understanding, he didn't fight him. Much. A few theatrical little jerks seemed almost customary, and had the desired effect of making Roxas's grip tighten.

One wrist was cuffed, and the chain went through the wooden bars of his headboard, looping roughly through the center and back again. He'd have some freedom of movement... But not a lot. The other wrist went into captivity, and Axel would only be able to touch if Roxas moved within the range he'd allowed him.

That was going to be even more frustrating than if he couldn't move at all, the minx. Axel flexed his hands a little, getting comfortable and starting to test how much range of motion he'd been granted. Roxas immediately pulled back, outside his reach, and shook his head with a false smirk of exasperation. Like Axel had misbehaved and it was amusing.

“Can't blame me for trying,” Axel grinned wickedly.

Roxas rolled his eyes, and ran his hands up and down his sides. “Really like this...” he commented lowly, starting to bring them up to his stomach and down.

“Want to show me how much?” He tugged at the restraints lightly, arching up with his hands.

“Mm,” Roxas lowered himself over Axel's body, and caught the jacket's zipper between his teeth. Axel's eyes widened a little, head at an uncomfortable angle to be able to watch him pull it down, but oh god it was so worth it. He pushed the coat only just out of his way, not wanting it fall completely open, and sucked at just the inside of Axel's hip.

“Nn-” he twitched, and moved his legs apart without waiting to be asked or told.

The sight and feel of him was enough to inspire Roxas towards kindness. One hand brushed up his leg as the kisses moved lower, and then he was wrapping it around his shaft one finger at a time.

“Good – fuck,” Axel wound his hands around the chain, as Roxas squeezed and twisted his hand a little. His breathing was already hitching and starting to pick up, to Roxas's immense pleasure; there was something especially hot about seeing smirking, snarky _Axel_ nearly helpless...

And the idea of frustrating him with that inability to touch brought something to mind. With a grin, Roxas clambered off of him and reversed his position, mounting his chest but facing away. He reached forward, hands planting against Axel's thighs and pushing them even farther apart – he acquiesced easily, but if he didn't know better, he'd think the soft sound of strain was Axel being pushed past his limits.

No, he'd just tried again to reach out and touch him, ass all but presented to be groped if only Axel could manage. Roxas could have laughed, making more of a spectacle by delving lower and licking a slow line along his arousal.

“ _Fuck -_ ”

At that, Roxas _did_ start to snicker, lips wrapping around the head and creating a trail of vibration. Axel shuddered and the chain clinked loudly. “ _Rox_...”

The unique position gave Roxas more room than usual to play. He swallowed more of him, one hand cupping his sack and stroking up the underside. Axel was running his mouth without paying much heed to his words, professing that Roxas was amazing, that he had to touch him, that he'd never known anything like his mouth, and the words didn't matter but the tone sure as hell did. Roxas rewarded him by finding a better angle to swallow him a little more, and hummed his approval.

If he hadn't come before, he wouldn't be feeling even more sensitive; Axel thought he might be feeling too good too fast, but Roxas pulled away fast at the first sign he was tensing up. He groaned, but he was also relieved, wanting it to last longer.

“Mm, c'mon,” he breathed, lifting his head a little more. “Let me see you...”

Roxas's hands crept back up towards himself, drawing over the leather. His legs were pressed against the material, and it was everywhere under him, and Axel's _voice_ was just so low and needy and something like liquid heat – he supposed he could oblige.

Besides, he wanted to see his face.

Swinging his leg off, he quickly sought out the lube Axel dropped earlier, brow knitting. It had to have fallen off the bed...

Axel watched his every move, and purred, “How in the hell are you so perfect...”

Roxas's gaze dropped, a stab of unexpected cold cutting through the heat. Trying to brush it off before he could dwell on it, he reached over the side of the bed. “Ah-ha,” he declared, picking up the bottle and getting flush to Axel again. Nipping under Axel's jaw, he allowed himself to bask in his own diabolical genius instead of think about what had been said – now he was _too close_ for Axel to touch.

That didn't stop Axel from trying, and he made a frustrated noise that tapered to a purr. He lifted his leg a little when Roxas's arm forced it to, one lubricated finger starting to work its way inside – god, he'd only fucked Axel that one time, and now that he was here, he couldn't remember ever wanting to do anything so badly.

Axel exhaled heavily, the breach not even uncomfortable. It was pressure and probing friction, exactly where he wanted it, and Roxas knew exactly how to curl it to hit that sweet spot – he wanted him to pound against that place and make that feeling _more_ because it was already electric and so damn good.

Mercifully, Roxas moved to let Axel lace his fingers through wild blonde spikes, and he did so with a deep groan. “Fuck, that's... Yes...”

Roxas licked his lips unconsciously, not needing to ask if he was ready for another and repeating the motion once there was a second inside. Axel's hips bucked involuntarily, breath hitching, wishing he'd scissor them _faster_ as the movement loosened him, physically coaxed Axel to take more.

“Rox, holy fuck...”

It was like he'd picked up on what Axel wanted without him needing to use the correct words. Roxas picked up his pace with an aroused smirk, fascinated by his responsiveness and all the more turned on by it. He pressed up into the leather and made a soft sound.

“Ah – ha,” Axel exhaled hard, a little amused through his own haze. “Wish I'd known 'bout the leather fetish sooner... You're so sexy...”

Another perk to being in control was that Roxas could conceal his blush. “Didn't realize for a while,” he confessed, and thrust his fingers in a little harder, impatient and starting to add a third when Axel showed no sign of being adverse to it.

“ _Yes_ ,” Axel moaned, loudly, which was his clue that he'd be alright for more. Roxas tried to angle the three fingers again once he'd pushed them slickly inside, glancing up at a tug on his hair.

“Ngh – I can take it rougher, like that, _fuck_ -” Axel broke off and moaned Roxas's name sharply as he slammed the third finger in all the way and bit down on his collarbone.

“Oh, god, shit, that's good, don't even worry about hurting me, you know what you're doing and you're so fucking good at it -” Axel's breathing was completely uneven, interrupted by bitten-back moans and words. “I can take it fine, c'mon...”

Roxas had been about to ask if he _could_ , and the fact that he didn't have to was almost enough to make him kiss Axel again. Still, he quickly tested if it really felt like Axel was ready – so he'd been wrong about him favoring only one half of the BDSM acronym...

Thank fuck, he _felt_ ready. “How do I want to do this...?”

“Quickly, I'm hoping?” Axel sounded far too desperate to be a proper smartass.

“Shut up.” Roxas pushed him onto his side, the position undoubtedly uncomfortable on his arms, but he'd free them soon enough. Hasty preparation, quick repositioning.

“Should've gagged me -”

Roxas lifted Axel's leg and burying his cock into him in one smooth, guided motion. “ _God_ -...damn...”

“ _Nngh_ ,” whatever else Axel had been about to say was utterly forgotten. He couldn't care much about the ache in his arms when he felt _full_.

He'd planned on pounding into him immediately, but the shock of bliss slowed Roxas for a second. He'd forgotten how _hot_ Axel was, inside. “You feel – _fuck_...”

Axel was relaxing, panting, urging him on with a, “Yes...”

It felt like the room was tilting. Roxas had all the control, and gave Axel's thigh a short slap when he sought to take some of it back. The pace was steady, not so fast he couldn't enjoy every drag and shove, and Roxas kissed him heatedly when that speed started to quicken despite himself. Axel moaned against his lips, powerless to do anything but take it and kind of reveling in that.

Roxas was starting to feel overwhelmed in the best way, the tight heat and the hot leather... He bucked hard, started to wind a hand around Axel's erection way too lightly and getting a needy sound out of him. Roxas broke the kiss, bit his lip hard, and started stroking him against his pace.

“ _Fuck_ -!” Axel couldn't last past that. His hips stuttered and he tightened up incredibly, spilling into his hand and pulling at the cuffs as much as he could. Roxas followed with a few more sharp thrusts, pressing right up against him as he climaxed with a violent shiver.

“ _Axel_ -...”

The air was thick and the tiredness that followed this time couldn't be combated with even the strongest java. Axel felt utterly drained, blissfully weak and kind of sore -

Oh, right, the cuffs.

“Arms are killing me,” he murmured as his breathing became almost normal, again.

“Mn,” Roxas made a lazy sound. “I'll get that.” Blindly, he reached up with his sullied hand, first grabbing for a tissue, then working out how to uncuff him without having to move. The process took a couple of minutes. Axel didn't complain. The chain pulled the cuffs down behind the bed somewhere, but retrieving them was the last priority on his list of everything ever.

With leaden arms, he reached over to his table lamp to turn it off, then pulled Roxas into another slow kiss, breaking it with a mumble of, “Holy hell, I'm exhausted.”

“Mm,” Roxas nodded weakly, prepared to roll over and sleep for an age when something occurred to him. “... Shit...”

“What...?” Axel's arms fell away, not picking up on Roxas's tone.

“Forgot the condom,” he looked faintly sheepish. “Sorry...”

Axel grumbled a little. That was going to be unpleasant, at some point, but that sounded like a Future Axel problem. “'ll worry about that later.”

“'Kay,” Roxas collapsed beside him, either forgetting or not caring that he was still wearing the collar, and grinning minutely. His eyes were on their way to closing when Axel spoke again, other implications hitting him moments late.

“The guys you've been with...” Axel sounded reluctant to bring it up. “Clean, right?”

“Oh,” Roxas's eyes opened again. “Yeah. I get tested regularly, and if I ever suspect.”

“Okay, cool,” Axel sat up a little, ditching the leather, and closed his eyes.

He should have drifted off immediately, as Roxas seemed to...but it bothered him long enough for Axel to watch the clock roll over to two o'clock, and he fell asleep feeling a little bit cold.

 


	9. What Lovely Elephants You Have

Roxas woke up warm, pleasantly sore, and with an uncomfortable pressure around his throat that prompted him to clear it and reach up to feel for a source.

A band of tight leather.

Oh. _Right._

With a small grin, he tried to turn over to remove it and sit up but found himself blocked by a heavy arm.

Already bristling with indignation despite the warmth said arm and the body attached was providing him, Roxas wriggled to a position to look up. The jolt of recognition was too sudden and sharp to tell whether it was one of relief... or regret.

Of course he was in Axel's bed. He knew the scent of it, the almost inhuman heat coming off him even undressed as he was, and, groggy as he was, it would be hard to forget the events of last night. The satisfying ache was reminder enough on its own.

The clock he could just barely see by craning over Axel's side told him his body had, like the traitor it was, woken him at the same disgustingly early hour he would have to rise at on a school day. And the painfully bright morning sun told him he had no hope of shutting his eyes and squeezing in a few more hours.

Probably better that he'd left the club when he did. A hangover would have been a far less attractive bedmate.

Speaking of...

Roxas's eyes strayed up to what he could see of Axel – mostly the underside of his chin and a tangle of red hair. Though his eyes were out of view, the slow rhythm of his breathing made it safe to assume all of Roxas's squirming around hadn't stirred him. He was asleep, then, oblivious to the uncomfortable situation his arm had trapped them both in.

More uncomfortable still, if he woke up to discover it. He'd probably apologize, there would be a lot of awkward shuffling and avoiding each other's eyes while they redressed and tried to figure out what to say. Worse, Axel could question him about why he'd agreed to this, and what it meant for the future. In all likelihood, they'd end up arguing again.

Yeah, he wasn't going to stick around for that.

If growing up with two incurable cuddlers for siblings had taught Roxas anything, it was how to slither out of any grip without notice. It took several minutes, sliding down inch by inch until the top of his head cleared Axel's arm, pausing several times to make sure any shifting or mumbling was still unconscious, then sitting up with as little rustling as possible.

He glanced again at Axel's face to make sure he'd definitely stayed asleep through all of that, and lingered there.

Still undisturbed in sleep, he looked... well, ridiculous.

The khol that defined his eyes was streaked across his temple as far as his hairline and smudged on his nose. The same look might be achieved by applying warpaint mid-seizure. Hair gel had been left in overnight and made for a spectacle of crushed spikes and kinked flyaway hairs sticking out at all sorts of impossible angles. His mouth hung open just enough for his teeth to brush his bottom lip, and was drawn upwards slightly on the side where his cheek was compressed by the pillow. With his head tilted vaguely up towards the headboard, Axel looked hilariously like he had frozen with a sneeze coming on.

Not to mention that even from here, Roxas was practically bowled over by powerful morning breath with every exhale.

He fought down the urge to laugh. Apart from waking Axel, that could be interpreted as... fondness.

Not that he _wasn't_ fond of Axel, in a way. A very non-fuzzy, you-can-make-me-laugh-and-orgasm-all-in-one-night-and-that's-more-than-I-can-say-for-most-people kind of way.

Would Axel look different to him somehow, if he harboured the kind of feelings for him he'd heard of in songs, movies, or books ad nauseam? The sort that supposedly made hearts skip beats, stomachs flutter, and caused breathing and brains to simultaneously disappear?

Maybe he'd have been feverishly happy to wake up in Axel's arms. Maybe the rather unflattering display he made at the moment would have been endearing. Maybe, if he was high enough on affection, he'd feel some overpowering urge to kiss him awake, morning breath and all.

... Ugh, maybe not. Roxas didn't think there existed a love powerful enough to combat _that._

In any case, Roxas didn't feel that. Any of it. The impression of Axel's body heat was gone, and he couldn't summon the warmth to replace it just by looking at him. As far as Roxas was concerned, he never could. And if he did, he wouldn't know how he'd know.

If that kind of emotion was going to be a requirement to keep doing this... it was never going to work out.

Anyway, he'd seen how pining worked out for people like...

...Like Sora.

Riku hadn't made an appearance for at least a week, which in Sora terms made him as good as gone. Roxas was still assured that he'd done the right thing in driving Riku out, but the longer Sora's hurt and angry silence stretched on, the more times he picked up his pace in the hall when he thought he could hear sniffling from behind his brother's door, the less justified he was starting to feel in the means he'd done it.

Okay, _yes_ , it had been uncool to seduce the guy Sora had aspirations of marrying and adopting an adorable family with, but it had worked. He'd only done what had to be done. And Roxas would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the smug sense that he'd been _right_ for several days after the fact.

But _maybe_ he could have gone the route of exposing what Riku had been hiding, first. Roxas's chosen method had been quicker and more his style, but it lacked the benefit of Sora understanding why things _had_ to be this way.

Well, he certainly hadn't needed that guilty realization so early in the morning.

He wondered if there was a way to apologize to Sora without making it sound like he should forgive Riku, too. It was probably time to try.

He didn't think he could stand another night of dishes being shoved at him so violently at dinner that most of their contents ended up on the table.

Channeling the sigh he so desperately wanted into a grunt of exertion, Roxas finally got out of bed. From there, finding and dressing in his tossed-aside clothes took longer than he liked. Rather than put the decorative collar back on, he stuffed it in his pocket as he eased Axel's door open.

No sounds of stirring behind him, and no one in the silent apartment to greet him. Good, his way was clear.

Only once in the safety of the outside hall did Roxas allow himself to admit that he owed Axel _some_ explanation. At least, he should clarify that leaving like a thief in the night didn't mean he intended to go on ignoring Axel's existence.

Removing his near-dead phone from his pocket, he drafted the least informative 'explanation' he could think of.

_'Had to leave. Couldn't lock your door. Sorry.'_

_'Text me later if you want.'_

He lingered on the phrasing of that last bit, but in the end sent it off without changing a word. He'd considered dropping the _'if you want'_ part, or extending it to _'if you want to meet up again'._ One, he thought, sounded a little too eager, and the other not enough.

So, there. He'd provided an invitation and an out all in one. If Axel couldn't be satisfied with that, at least he could consider last night a much more satisfying end.

 

* * *

 

“You just need to remember, more strength in the stance. You want to feel immovable, right down from your shoulders to your feet planted on the ground.”

Although Terra wasn't speaking to him, Ven found himself grounding himself a little more firmly, eyes stealing towards the girl beside him. She was very focused on Aqua's stance up at the front of the class, nodding along to Terra's quiet correction, and adjusting.

Sensei Eraqus led their class – a large one, for all the students from intermediate to expert level – with his two master class students assisting. Aqua was very often up front for others to observe and follow, her form being ever-so-slightly the better example, but Ven didn't need to watch her as closely as he used to. Really, he'd performed these motions so often he could've done it blindfolded, but didn't because that was considered a hazard in most schools of martial arts.

Ven also wouldn't actually do a lesson blindfolded because that would rob him of the opportunity to sneak glances at Terra whenever he passed by his field of vision. He kept his head forward as he was meant to a solid ninety percent of the time, but two years of dating hadn't soured the honeymoon phase of their relationship and Ven's eyes were still just naturally drawn to him.

Really, that had always been the case, even well before anything romantic had developed between the two of them. He'd watched both Terra and Aqua in admiration, awed by their formidable prowess with the bamboo blades, until he'd found that his attention slid to Terra more often.

It had still been almost brotherly in nature, for a while. Terra was tall and strong, quiet and kind – Ven had idolized him, certain that Terra was exactly the kind of man he wanted to be.

Now he much preferred being _with_ him. Not a whole lot had changed and their relationship hadn't become anything it wasn't when they first started; they held hands, they kissed sometimes, and all proximity was an excuse to engage in some serious snuggling. They had no shame (or at least, very little shame) in showing each other affection whenever the urge struck, and were both comfortably aware of the fact that they were in love.

Still, there was a time and a place, and the dojo was not a love nest. Ven looked at their Sensei with exaggerated focus, wanting to show him that he was doing everything right... Or, more specifically, the way Terra and Aqua would.

Really, though, lessons like these ones were kind of mindless. Every once in a while, like today, Eraqus had them drill the exercises and forms that were repeated through all the levels. He placed heavy focus on the basics, lest someone get sloppy. The pupils who complained that it was a waste of time were always the ones who got them wrong the most often.

Terra moved on from the girl beside Ven, resuming his walk-around and flashing Ven a smile that was equal parts approval and affection. Ven gave a tiny smile back, attention forward again, but inside he was almost brimming with warmth and pride.

Eraqus called instructions, and Ven moved from one stance to another with ease, the last minutes of class passing by in a breeze. Terra had gone back up to the front, standing at Eraqus's side with the utmost composure, he and Aqua both standing perfectly straight with their feet together. The parting words were a formulaic farewell, and the lesson concluded with a bow to their teacher.

Not that Ven didn't enjoy class – he loved kendo – but he was a bit hurried in his bow and eager to get changed. Terra would be hanging back to oversee the return of the equipment and making sure it was all accounted for, but he never dawdled in the change room. Actually, he didn't often even bother to remove the majority of his uniform, favoring his hakama over other clothing, which he claimed was less comfortable.

Back when Ven had been more easily impressed, he'd thought Terra looked really cool, walking around in hakama and a t-shirt as though casually at the ready to fight. Now... He still thought Terra looked cool, actually, and the fact that the t-shirts had gotten tighter on him was probably a tiny bit of a factor.

Ven was in and out of the boys' locker room in a flash, in time to hear Aqua thank Sensei Eraqus for the lesson before going to start getting changed, herself. Terra wasn't in sight; so he'd probably slipped by at some point to go grab his gym bag. He would throw something on – probably brown, or gray, along the neutral spectrum of the earthy colors all his clothing came in – and be out like clockwork.

Yup, as predicted. Terra was grinning at him fondly, and Ven's face split into an even wider smile, energized by eagerness.

“Hey, good work today,” Terra praised as he made straight for him, and Ven had to resist his inclinations to hug or touch him in any way that might suggest they were something other than good friends.

“Thank you,” Ventus damn near glowed. “You were really good, too. I mean, you're always good. Obviously.”

Terra was having similar difficulties, close enough to caress his cheek or stoop down for a kiss or even ruffle his hair. That one could be construed innocently, but he wouldn't do it. Hair-tousling was a gateway touch. “If you ask me, you should be up in the Master class with Aqua and me, soon,” he told Ven, instead of wading into the dangerous waters of platonic contact.

“Really?” Ven perked up excitedly.

“Definitely. Your form is great, you hardly ever need an instruction more than once... And you can keep up with us just fine when we all spar.”

Ven was beaming and Terra's heart was doing that _thing_ where it felt miraculously lighter. “Well, since I spar with _you_ guys all the time...”

From behind him, Aqua was leaving the girls' locker room in a pair of bike shorts and a jogging shirt. She, like Terra, would probably go for a quick workout later; assisting with lessons didn't try them hard enough for their liking. Maybe Ven didn't have that level of dedication yet, but he figured he could probably make up for that with an upbeat attitude and the fortifying power of dreams. Also, love and friendship.

“Ready to go?” Aqua questioned, waving to a couple of the intermediate-level girls as they slipped by with smiles on their faces.

“Yeah,” Terra adjusted his bag over his shoulder, still gazing at Ven. Now there was some amusement at his unbridled joy at the idea of moving up to their class, but the pride hadn't faded and probably never would. Going to hold the door for them, he nodded to the pair of his friends, “After you.”

“You have everything?” Aqua checked first, giving Ven a quick up and down inspection. “Uniform, water? Keys? Phone?”

“Got it all,” Ven turned his bag towards her and gave it a light pat.

“He's not a kid, Aqua, he's alright,” Terra sighed in mock-exasperation.

“Yeah,” aforementioned not-kid agreed.

“I'm just making sure. The dojo closes after this, and if you left anything behind you couldn't get it back until Monday,” Aqua reminded them.

“Guess it never hurts to check,” Terra amended, leaning into the door with his shoulder as a few more students passed by on their way out.

Aqua crossed her arms, teasing. “You left things behind more times than anyone I know.”

“Is that true?” Ven grinned.

“When I was _younger_ , maybe,” he frowned.

“A month younger, sure.”

Ven laughed, and Terra shot her a look of annoyance. “She's exaggerating,” he defended himself.

Aqua shot Ven a grin, but changed the subject as they headed outside. “Are you both up to getting some dinner?”

“Anywhere in mind?” Terra let the door swing shut behind them, as though they weren't going to go straight to the same food stand they always did after practice. As expected, they didn't dither long before Ven suggested it and they all agreed, turning and heading down the street into the more active downtown area.

“So, Aqua,” Terra began, letting Aqua lead the procession a step ahead of them both. “The chance to move up a class comes up next month... What do you think, Ven has a shot, right?”

She took some time, giving some serious thought to her answer. “If he sticks to training. We may have to arrange for a few extra lessons, make sure he's mastered the techniques of his level, and of course speak to Sensei...”

Glancing over her shoulder, she was met with Ven's enormous hopeful eyes, which was not unlike being stared at by a baby bunny or puppy or something equally small and squeezable.

“Of course I think you're _good_ enough,” she hastily tacked on, “but the next level comes with responsibilities. You have to know your stuff better than just a student.”

“I'll work with you,” Terra offered, one hand resting on his shoulder. “Every day, if you want.”

“You will,” Ven grinned up at him.

Fondly, Aqua observed the exchange with the air of a mother watching her son on his wedding day. “You know, you're clear to hold hands now, if you want.”

Terra cleared his throat reflexively, always flustered whenever Aqua reminded them that she not only knew about their relationship, but often saw them being...couple-y. It wasn't that their relationship was a _secret_ , by any means – on the contrary, Terra had all but announced it, when asking the Hikari parents whether or not it was okay if they got together (with many flustered reassurances that they would not be engaging in _any_ 'adult behavior' until Ven was old enough).

It was just... _embarrassing_ , having one of your best friends, almost a sister, endorse romantic behavior.

Even so, he took Ven's hand. That was a tempting offer he couldn't refuse.

Ven shifted his hand a little, as though momentarily uncertain how to work his own arm, but he quickly got comfortable and settled with his hand tucked nicely within Terra's. His chest swelled like a maiden in a Jane Austen novel once she'd been wooed, and Aqua's smile turned amused as she fell in step on Ven's other side.

“... So we'll get together a lot to practice. Not that we weren't going to meet up anyway,” Terra picked up from where they'd left off.

“Of course. I'll let mom know, she'll be so excited!”

Terra laughed. “Glad she still likes me, after all this time.”

“She loves you!” Ven protested the very thought. “You're like another son to her.”

Aqua was briefly tempted to interject that she likely saw Terra as exactly that, what with Terra's own lack of mother and marriage to Ven in all but name and legality. She abstained.

“I get the occasional sense that she's waiting for me to slip up.”

Ven couldn't deny that. “That's only because you're the first relationship one of her kids has had.”

“Motherly instincts,” Aqua chimed in. “You can't fault her for that.”

“I don't, your mother is great,” Terra was quick to say, but he did mean every word.

“But it's not as bad as you think. She knows you,” Ven informed him earnestly. “She trusts you...and Aqua.”

“Who _wouldn't_ trust Aqua?” Terra glanced at her over the top of Ven's head. She smiled in acknowledgment.

“She just knows I can keep you both in line.”

“Not that we don't make you work for it,” Terra commented, referring mostly to their sparring practices.

“I can handle the two of you.”

Terra caught Ven's eye, and the two of them grinned. “We'll have to make it more of a challenge.”

Ven laughed, but a blush had started to creep up to his cheeks as his head started to fill with ideas of how they could do that. Oblivious, Terra was looking over Ven's head again, remarking, “Got to keep you sharp, after all.”

“Know I can count on you to get into trouble,” Aqua raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly from Ven to Terra, then back to Ven. His own insinuations clicked, and Terra felt a fresh surge of embarrassment as it dawned on him what Aqua must have been thinking.

Ven's _parents_ knew they were waiting, and – what was more – almost believed them. _Aqua_ hadn't been told, though. When she'd found out they were planning on seeing each other in a romantic sense, she'd given them each a stern talk about the law and common sense, but concluded by saying that she trusted them to make safe decisions. It had been the most mortifying conversation of both of their lives and Terra certainly hadn't ever come close to breaching that topic again.

Topic. He needed to change the current one. Immediately.

“Maybe we won't make trouble tonight,” Terra coughed, and wished he had the flexibility to kick himself in the head. That had sounded _worse!_ “What're you up to, Ven?” Damn it!

Ven blinked, brought out of his head and alarmed that Terra had somehow known what was on his mind. “Nothing, as far as I know,” he answered quickly.

“Would you want to hang out?” Terra almost added, ' _Just_ hang out.'

“Definitely!” Ven was pleased, if no less paranoid that his thoughts had somehow been broadcast to the group. To call such a thing 'awkward' would be a gross understatement, and awkwardness reminded him of the tense atmosphere between his brothers over the past while. “Er, we probably shouldn't go to my place, though.”

Terra proceeded to dig himself in deeper. “We could go to mine... We'd just have to call your parents.”

“Okay,” Ven agreed eagerly. “I'll call them over dinner!”

Aqua gave Terra a significant look that Ven missed. Terra, despite trying very hard not to understand what she might be trying to convey or imply, gave a quick shake of his head anyway. “Good plan,” he said, and wished for anything that might turn the tide of the conversation.

Mercifully, they reached the food court as Aqua struck up a new topic about the prospects of the new beginner class, apparently mollified. Terra found this to be a sufficient distraction, even when Ven hung up the phone with his mother and happily informed everyone present that he was allowed to sleep over at his boyfriend's apartment.

Aqua wound up declining their offer to have her join them for the evening, but they talked about anything that came to mind until forced to part ways. Stopping at Ven's house to allow him the opportunity to pick up some pyjamas and a change for tomorrow, Terra exchanged some pleasantries with Mr. Hikari about the last kendo competition he and Aqua had participated in and accepted a drive back to the apartment on both of their behalf.

It was a drive Ven's parents had made routinely for the past year, starting from the day he'd moved in. After about a month of them doing so, Terra finally accepted their insistence that it was no trouble to drop him off there, with or without Ven along for the ride.

“It's nowhere near late enough to sleep,” Terra noted once they'd been dropped off. He unlocked the door to his tiny one-bedroom, holding the door to let Ven in before him. “I could get my stretching out of the way... Or I could skip it, if you'd rather watch a movie or something.”

“You can still do that! I'll just watch.” Ven set down his overnight bag and grinned at him, not at all opposed to observing him training.

“You sure you won't be bored?” Terra inquired, putting his gym bag down next to Ven's and removing his shoes.

“I won't be,” Ven stepped on the back of his running shoes to slide his feet out of them. “Honest!”

“Alright,” Terra waited for him to finish with that and kissed him quickly, much freer with affection when they were on their own. Ven smiled into the brief contact, unzipping his hoodie to hang on Terra's mostly-bare coat rack. Similarly (sort of) Terra began to remove his shirt on his way to his bedroom, intending on getting comfortable before beginning his routine. Unconsciously, Ven bit his lip and stared after him, a little delayed in following.

 _His_ train of thought had been a little more...determined, to run with the subject of sex once Ven had first thought of it. It just kept popping back in there, like the rigged part of a midway whack-a-mole game.

Realizing he hadn't followed right away and worried that was weird, Ven quickly caught up. Unfortunately, Terra had been operating under the idea that Ven was waiting in the hall-slash-living room for him, and was throwing his hakama in the laundry hamper.

Ven stopped short, slapping a hand over his eyes with a fierce blush. Terra hastily pulled on some pyjama pants.

“You can look, now,” Terra sounded apologetic.

Still fairly red, Ven lowered his hand and crossed over to sit on Terra's bed, giving an airy, embarrassed little laugh. It was a little silly to be caught so off-guard by seeing one's _boyfriend_ of _two years_ undressed, but thankfully, he wasn't mocked for it. Terra kissed Ven's forehead before giving himself some space to begin; that was a habit he'd never broken, though it had started back when he treated Ven like a kid. Regardless, Ven found the gesture comforting, and smiled.

Terra breathed slowly, and started running through his routine of yoga stretches, starting with his triangle pose. Ven watched in fascination, pulling his legs up onto the bed. He took out his phone, starting a timer with his app; Terra didn't mind talking when he was running through his poses, but he lost track of how long he was holding them without someone telling him when to change them. Luckily, that was what he had Ven for.

“So Sora and Roxas have been fighting for like, a week, but they won't talk about it,” Ven began conversationally. Terra kept his breathing even and steady, eyebrows raising a little.

“Fighting? Why?”

“I dunno,” Ven shrugged one shoulder. “Roxas _never_ talks to me about anything, so I didn't ask him... But when I tried to talk to Sora about it, he said he didn't want to talk about it. He must be really upset, 'cause I think normally he'd tell me.”

“Are they okay, though?” Terra looked concerned.

“I'm not sure. Sora barely _talks_ to Roxas, lately. Not even at the dinner table. Sora hardly ever gets that angry...” Ven bit his lip, and glanced down at his phone. “Oh, switch.”

Terra bent one knee and leaned in to an extended side angle pose. Despite his rekindled concern brought about by the topic, Ven still found the diagonal line of Terra's body _interesting_.

“It's Sora,” Terra exhaled audibly with the words. “Even if he's mad now, he never _stays_ mad.”

“I think this time might be different?” Ven's brow furrowed slightly. “I _think_ it might have something to do with Riku.”

“Riku is...his best friend, right?”

“Yeah, but I think he wishes they were boyfriends.”

Terra looked sympathetic. Ven unfolded his legs a little, leaning into one hand as he thought about it.

“Riku hasn't been around very much either, and that's weird, for him. He really hates going home, for some reason, so the only reason he wouldn't be around as much is if they're fighting, too.”

“But Sora being mad at Riku is even less likely than him being mad to begin with,” Terra looked surprised.

“He _is_ angry, though,” Ven shook his head a little. “I don't know. I just hope everyone makes up. Everyone's really uncomfortable at home and my dad's kind of upset by it, he's not used to any of us not getting along. I mean, he's used to Roxas being grumpy, but we all still _get along_. Mom keeps telling him that she's sure we'll all work it out, but – switch poses.”

Terra blew a puff of air, pulling himself over to the other side to repeat those two poses on his other side. “Go on,” he prompted, once he was in his triangle again.

Ven tried to pick up his train of thought again. “Where was I...? Oh,” he shook his head before Terra could respond. “Right, my mom thinks they'll just talk about it or that it'll blow over, I guess? And maybe normally I'd think so too, but... Not when Riku's involved, too.”

“Maybe it'll still blow over, once he makes up with Riku,” Terra suggested. Ven lit up a little.

“Maybe... It probably depends on who's mad at who?” He pondered that. “They're all really stubborn people, but they can't hold out forever. Sora and Riku'll make up before Sora and Roxas do, and after that, things will probably all be okay again.”

“I hope so. You're welcome to stay at my place, any nights that it gets too...”

Ven smiled, kind of touched by that. “That was kind of one of the reasons I wanted to sleep over tonight,” he admitted. “Not that I don't just want to spend time with you! That's not at all what I mean.”

Terra laughed, a little breathless. “I know what you mean.”

“Right,” Ven relaxed a little again. “I just really want everything to go back to normal, but I don't know if they will. Or if they even _can_. Maybe things will have to be better than normal, before Sora forgives Roxas...”

“Sora?” Terra sounded dubious. Sora was probably _too_ forgiving, in most circumstances.

“I'm telling you, he's _never_ been this angry. I think it'd either take a miracle for everything to be okay again, or Sora and Riku starting to date. Um, switch.”

Terra leaned away from him, offering a generous view of calf muscle even through his pyjama pants, which were experiencing the pull of gravity and following the line of his leg. It gave the eye something nice and easy to follow up to a firm backside and cut stomach muscles.

It was lucky that Terra wasn't able to see him well from his angle. Ven was blushing again.

“Kind of sad, that the two of them dating and a miracle are on the same tier,” Terra said soberly, honestly feeling bad for Ven's brother. He remembered well what it felt like to think your love was unrequited; to say he'd been even quieter would be spot-on, and he'd also never been more prone to anger and rash decisions than he was during that miserable time. It was a feeling of helplessness and unworthiness, and Terra couldn't have been more grateful that he never had to experience that again.

Well, unless something went terribly, out-of-left-field wrong, but he didn't foresee that happening. They were good and committed.

“Maybe not a miracle,” Ven amended, perhaps out of pity. “It'd actually be really nice if they started dating, I think... Even though that'd mean I wouldn't be the only one of us with a boyfriend, anymore.”

It could never be said that Terra was free of hypocrisy. Ven was, in his eyes, a young adult – entirely capable of responsibility and control. Roxas was a bit of a wild card, knowing how his habits were, but Terra often sort of dismissed them as the impulsive and poor decision-making of a teenager... And Sora may as well have been ten or younger, for Terra just couldn't shake the role of 'younger brother' off of him.

He wasn't even the _youngest_. Sora was just... Sora, though. With all of Ven's innocence but lacking his wit, Sora _dating_ was just...weird, to him.

“That's true,” he frowned. “I almost feel weird about that.”

“Maybe if that happened, mom and dad wouldn't bug _me_ as much about it,” Ven pointed out. “They could be distracted and ask Sora questions about Riku whenever he leaves the house.”

Terra was slightly alarmed. “Do they still ask if you're...?”

He trailed off, but the meaning was clear. Ven blushed crimson, and spoke again to say, “Time to switch.”

Drawing himself up, Terra rotated his shoulders once and then bent forward into downward dog. That firm backside Ven had been noticing before was now in the air, and he had to...not-look, to make an actual response easier to come out with.

“They don't ask as much, anymore, but they still sometimes ask if I'm a virgin,” Ven confessed. It wasn't in his nature to lie, which everyone knew, but perhaps if it was, they wouldn't still be compelled to ask. “They probably will tomorrow...”

Terra kept his eyes on the floor, discomfited. “It's like they don't trust me...”

“They do trust you! They like you a lot!” Ven shook his head, wishing he wouldn't doubt that so often. “Even though they're okay with it, they still think I'm kind of too young for a 'real, adult relationship'... They don't come right out and say that, but sometimes they say things kinda _like_ it. But that's not about you.”

“And they're not _wrong_ ,” Terra admitted, “but that's why we agreed not to...”

“I-I know,” Ven stammered. “It's just so embarrassing to say we're waiting until I'm eighteen. They'll start looking at me all weird as soon as it's my birthday.”

His birthday, which wasn't actually all that far away. Terra's controlled breathing and heartbeat were thrown completely out of whack, uncomfortable. “We don't even know if you'll be ready, then...”

Or if _he'd_ be ready, Terra admitted to himself, but didn't dare to out loud.

Ven nodded, eyes wide. “I didn't mean we have to then, _for sure_...”

“Right, no, I know,” Terra broke in. His pose only lasted a few more seconds, and Ven cued him to drop to the floor from where he was to start on his push-ups.

As strange as the atmosphere had become, watching Terra do his set at least alleviated the possibility of the situation becoming mortifying. There was just this strange sort of tension neither of them were really familiar with identifying, but they both sensed it and had been acquainted with it in the past. It just seemed to...come up, every so often, and they normally found that if they ignored it, it would eventually go away.

Terra did ten sets of ten push-ups, and got to his feet, a little flush with heat and exertion. Ven stared admiringly, watching him lift his arms up and the muscles flex with movement.

“I'll be right back, okay?” Terra turned to go grab a towel from the bathroom, not having worked up an excessive amount of sweat, but enough to wipe away with a damp cloth. Especially if he wanted to spend the remainder of the evening curled up on the couch with his boyfriend, which was almost definitely the plan.

“'Kay.” If Ven sounded a little out of it, it probably wasn't because that weird atmosphere was still hanging heavy in the bedroom.

The minute or two apart was good for them. Ven had almost managed to collect himself when Terra returned, hair a little damp after running some cold water over his face.

“Hey, can you still pick me up?” Ven questioned, still a tiny bit flushed, and also still tiny. Ven had stayed practically the same size since they first met, and Terra grinned in amusement. He dropped the hand towel into the laundry, approaching the bed and picking Ven up as though he weighed nothing.

“Like that?”

He hadn't expected Terra's response to be so immediate, and Ven let out a high noise of surprise before laughing. “Yeah.”

Smiling, Terra kissed his forehead, then his lips. Content, Ven's arms wound around him, letting Terra support his weight and trusting him wholly to do so. One of Terra's hands went under his thigh briefly to hoist him up a bit higher, and the touch sort of tingled.

His lips and tongue were warm, and the two of them both kissed like they were doing a dance they knew all the steps to by heart. Two years had given them plenty of practice with each other; there was no exploration, no testing. Ven knew when Terra wanted him to curl his tongue around his. Terra knew how much pressure made Ven feel overwhelmed and cherished.

Even with all the weirdness before, this was familiar and good, and Ven's nerves subsided. Terra turned around to sink against the mattress, sitting down and bringing Ven into his lap in the process with their arms still around each other. Ven made a pleased sound, resting more weight against him, and Terra echoed it; he was never very good at keeping quiet in anything he did.

Then something felt not-quite-right – Ven's hand had started tracing his chest, outlining Terra's muscles absentmindedly, when something started distinctly pressing against him. Ven pulled away, and somehow, he'd noticed before Terra had.

“Ven...?”

“Um,” Ven's eyes flickered down between them, and Terra cleared his throat when he realized what was going on.

“Oh-...” Quickly, he guided Ven out of his lap. Ven was cherry red, shifting to sit on the bed beside him.

“Sorry...”

“It's, uh, not your fault,” Terra splayed one hand over his face, trying to hide while still maintaining _any_ degree of 'cool'. “I mean, it's _because_ of you, just not -...”

He wasn't capable of finishing that sentence off. Ven almost glanced down at his lap, starting to compromise with himself a little.

He was...a _little_ curious... Anyone would be. He hadn't even seen Terra naked, yet.

“Sh-should I, um...?”

“It'll go away on its own,” Terra gulped, all 'cool' gone. “You don't have to. When we're ready.”

Unknowingly, Ven had been holding his breath. “When we're ready,” he echoed, nodding quickly and placing his hands firmly in his lap. He still had the sort of...phantom-sensation, against his -

He really _was_ curious, and he sort of wanted to. But even the imagined feeling of Terra's erection was threatening to send him into hysterical flustered fits. Ven wasn't ready.

“Are you okay...?” Terra took a deep breath, watching him.

“Yeah,” he answered honestly, really not wanting Terra to beat himself up for what had just happened – it was a bad habit he had. “Um... We should...do something.”

Terra was sure they'd had plans, before, but thinking was more of an endeavor than before. “What do you want to do?”

“Um, we could... Movie?”

Nodding gratefully, Terra considered for a moment before scooping Ven into his arms again on his way up. It was what he would have done any other time; if he acted awkwardly after _that_ , Ven would think something was wrong, or just flat-out think about it too much.

Indeed, pleased that things hadn't suddenly become different between them, Ven clung to him with a smile. “This is fun, too.”

“We'll multitask. Watch a movie while I carry you.”

“You'll get tired, won't you?”

“Endurance training.”

Ven laughed, happily nestling against Terra's neck as he was carried off to the living room to watch a cute movie about a boy and his dog. There was a rather jarring and unenjoyable moment in the plot in which it looked like the dog might die, but it turned out alright on multiple points. Most importantly, the dog was okay in the end, but the added bonus was that it turned out to be impossible to maintain a boner when a fictional dog might be on his death bed.

 

* * *

 

The impossible had happened. Roxas had given in first, and gone to Sora to admit he was sorry.

To say the gesture was unexpected was the understatement of _both_ their lives, but Sora appreciated it... in a way.

The conversation that followed was nothing short of painful. Awkward and stilted, Sora could tell his brother was doing his best not to defend his own actions, and in the end _still_ left Sora bereft of any understandable reason why this had happened in the first place.

Roxas did admit that sex had been his own idea, and it had been spur-of-the-moment. There had never been anything going on between him and Riku before then, and there never would be.

He also offered to switch mattresses, but Sora didn't think they could explain that to their parents.

After a few uncomfortable assurances that they still loved each other, and that their relationship would recover from even this, Roxas returned to his own room, and from the sounds of it, promptly fell asleep.

A bit of the weight felt like it had lifted from Sora's mood.

It took about a minute for it to be replaced with a sudden, horrible sinking realization.

If even Roxas couldn't stand fighting anymore, then Riku...

He'd been so ashamed when Sora discovered them, so disgusted with himself. Sora had known it then, but didn't _want_ to see it. He'd known that Riku would need a friend to talk to, but he didn't want to be that. Not right away. First he had to prove just how mad he was, show him that even their friendship could be shaken by betrayal.

He'd abandoned Riku, hadn't even given him a chance, just to teach him a lesson.

Icy cold joined the sinking feeling. Sora had acted exactly like Riku's parents. He'd done just the thing Riku so often came to him to escape from.

Even with the newfound understanding that he was the _worst friend in the universe_ , Sora wasn't sure the abrupt certainty that something very, very bad was going to happen if he didn't make this right immediately was entirely logical.

He ignored logic. He had to see Riku _right now_.

At a breakneck sprint, it still took about fifteen minutes to reach the end of Riku's street. Sora had at least remembered shoes on his way out the door, but courtesies like texting to give him some warning of his arrival were a waste of precious seconds that it seemed would make the difference between keeping Riku's friendship or losing it forver.

Able to see Riku's car in the driveway now, Sora slowed his pace a little, but still took every other step at a jog. He had to give himself the time to catch his breath and collect any thoughts he could. All that had been going through his head on the way was an anxious mantra of _get there._

He hadn't spared a thought to what he'd actually say. Not much choice but to wing it now, and at this rate Sora had no idea if he'd end up immediately forgiving him, or confessing his love on the doorstep, or _what_ he'd do. He didn't actually care.

Unable to stand it, he ran the last distance up the driveway and up the steps, and practically abused the doorbell with the force he threw at it. Without waiting for the ringing to fade, he added a series of loud knocks that Riku would recognise as _his_ signature knock, and waited.

A cold wash of nausea preceded panic, and Riku would have been hard pressed to identify what had come from where. His reaction time was a second off; he'd been in the middle of a horrible, sinking realization, which was that the first hefty dose of heroin he'd shot into his veins probably _had_ just been strangely delayed in kicking in.

He'd been abusing his new stash daily, with every day that had passed without a word from Sora. Riku wasn't unaccustomed to the silent treatment – he got it from his adoptive mother regularly, with a far more cold and cutting edge than Sora as hers tended to go hand-in-hand with pointed, punishing neglect – but he'd still never experienced it from _him_. As unforgivable as his actions were, he'd still expected Sora would calm enough by the following day to text him... Or, if not _calmed_ , he still thought he would hear something. His anger, his upset, anything.

Instead there had been nothing but quiet, and knowing he didn't deserve to ask for Sora back, Riku had tried to come to terms with the fact that the most valuable person in his life was done with him.

From there, the only comfort he could find was in a dissociative lack of reality and chills. And, despite knowing better, the constant use had made him think – for a moment – that he could tolerate more. That he could handle it.

He wasn't so sure he could handle it, now. But, since he'd already emptied a second syringe into his arm, it was kind of late for that.

Still, there was a small chance that he was overreacting, and that the jarring wave of sickness was a symptom of fear, not of heroin. He'd been so assured that his parents wouldn't be home for hours, at _least_.

But his parents wouldn't knock – idiot, he sniped at himself, and staggered to his feet, stowing the needle in the trash carelessly. He would dispose of it properly later; he always did... For now, he just had to get the door and act natural. It was undoubtedly someone who would only want to speak to 'an adult'. They'd leave, the moment he told them his parents weren't home.

Just. Hold it together. That was all he had to do.

Outside, Sora's nervousness mounted higher, the longer he had to wait. Maybe he'd waited too long to reach out. His weight shifted from foot to foot, mind providing him with a litany of anxious thoughts – maybe Riku was mad at him, now. Maybe he'd been mad from the start, and he didn't _want_ to see Sora. Maybe Riku hated him, now.

The door opened, and Riku's hands shook almost violently. He stared, and despite the fact that Riku looked absolutely floored, just the sight of him was enough to make Sora start to beam without even being able to help himself.

“Hi!” Sora normally would have hugged him, but had enough sense (and trepidation) to hold that back. Strangely, though, Riku didn't seem to find that odd. Nor did he give him any indication that he felt any particular way about it at all, or even Sora's presence. Riku just looked blank, perhaps with shock, staring with blown-wide pupils.

“... Hi...”

Sora tilted his head slightly, thinking that something seemed...off. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd seen Riku act a little spacey, but this was...different, somehow. “Can I come in?”

The words were somehow slow. Riku felt like he was hearing them through something thick. “I-... Yeah,” he stepped aside before he'd thought it through, simply unable to imagine a time he would ever deny Sora access to his house.

Even though he honestly wished they were anywhere but here. Back in Sora's home; even if Roxas was there, hating him, it was _better_.

And he wasn't wrong to hate Riku, anyway.

“I wanted to talk to you, if that's okay...”

“Right... Yeah, sure. ” Riku didn't really know what he was agreeing to. He hadn't actually heard him at all. Underneath the cold, some of the pseudo-warmth was starting to kick in at last. He could get through this. The double-dose wasn't actually as bad or weird as he thought.

“Should we go to your room, maybe, or is here okay?”

“Wherever... My parents aren't home.”

He was shivering infrequently, subtly, and neither of them had yet to pick up on it. What Sora did notice, with a spike of new worry, was that Riku was far more unconcerned than he'd ever be about talking out in the open. Even if his parents weren't home, it was just _weird_ that he wouldn't opt to give them the added security of a bedroom door...

If he was being careless, maybe that really did mean Riku was angry.

Meanwhile, the dizzying buzz made Riku feel oddly...distant, from everything. Even his terror that Sora would never speak to him again. He even thought he might be dreaming, but just in case, he shoved his hands into his pockets before Sora could notice they were shaking.

“O-okay,” Sora teetered from one foot to the other. “The thing is... I was really mad at you before, and at Roxas too, but... Even though I still don't understand, and even though it still kinda hurts, I'm not mad anymore...”

None of the words seemed to make sense, to Riku. He wasn't sure they even _were_ real words. Their meaning was slow to sink in. “... Okay... Good...”

“And...” Sora tried to be as careful as he could in his wording, not wanting to make the perceived coldness any worse, “I think maybe... If you're confused or anything, you should tell me about it. Because you're my best friend and no matter what I wouldn't hate you... So... Please?”

“Confused-?” Riku glanced away from him, comprehending a little, but he heard himself talk without really being aware of it. “I don't like Roxas, you know. He practically jumped me. How would _I_ be the one confused...”

“I get that – I believe you,” Sora said quickly. “But... I don't mean about Roxas...”

“About...” Riku trailed off, finding it that much harder to think. He was too warm, inside; or was he cold? No... Warm. Much...much too warm.

“... Riku?” Sora stared, watching his chest rise and fall with short and shallow breaths.

Riku made a vague sound of acknowledgment, and then mumbled, “I need to sit down.”

Sora's eyes went very wide, going to help him. His bare arm was shockingly cold to the touch, and clammy. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine...” Riku jerked away, aware of his sweat and paleness, and all but fled to the sitting room right by the foyer. Sora neglected to take off his shoes as he trailed after; almost deliriously, Riku thought about the fit his mother would throw when she discovered shoe prints in her carpeted floors.

He sank into the couch, jerking forward slightly as an undefinable and unfamiliar feeling of _wrong_ hit him hard.

Riku's heart felt like it was punching through his rib cage. Unfamiliar was...very, very bad. Very dangerous. Wrapped up in his detached assessment of the situation, he almost didn't hear Sora's panicked babbling.

“Riku? Y-you don't look so good. You're getting really pale really fast. Should I get something – or, or...”

“I need an ambulance,” he interrupted numbly. Or maybe he didn't. Did he really care?

“Why?” Sora squeaked, scrambling for his phone. “What's wrong?!”

“Just need one...” Riku slumped forward, the spasms in his hands almost definitely too violent and uncontrolled to hold his own phone, let alone dial. Sora took hold of one of them firmly, trying to steady it, Riku's fingers like ice against his own.

Sora was saying his name, dialing 911. Riku muttered, “It's fine,” even though it wasn't, but he couldn't tell whether or not he cared. He just felt sick. Really sick.

Had he just been sick? Had he thrown up on the carpet? It seemed like something that might have just happened without even having been aware of it. He almost hoped that he did. It wasn't like his parents – adoptive parents, they loved to remind him – could get any angrier about this.

He'd panic about that later. Maybe.

“Hello?” Sora was trying to speak through dry sobs, scared and trying to look into Riku's eyes. His pupils had become small. “I need... Help-... I-I mean, ambulance, please...”

“My parents'll kill me,” Riku groaned quietly, in a full-bodied kind of pain.

He heard Sora telling them his address, describing the condition he was in. Sora kept stuttering, hitching, his voice would break every few words. Riku found that far more interesting than words could ever be.

It meant that Sora still cared... Didn't it?

“They're coming, okay?” Sora was hauling Riku into his arms, now on the couch beside him, like he thought he could fix things with his body heat alone. Riku practically slumped against him, more exhausted than he could ever remember being in all his life. “Riku?”

“... I really like you, you know that?” He had to know. Riku... Riku had to make _sure_ he knew.

Sora choked on tears and nodded, not sure if the lack of tension in Riku's body scared him more or less. “Wh-what happened...?”

Misinterpreting, or perhaps feeling it was more pressing, he leaned his forehead into Sora's shoulder and shuddered hard, starting to feel the cold prevail. “What happened was... He came in, found me doing-... And he was pissed off, accused me of wanting to _use_ you, but that's not it. That'd never be-... You're my best friend, I never wanted to hurt you...”

“I know,” Sora whispered, all the more terrified. He hardly understood what Riku was saying, why he was trying to explain _now_ , but everything sounded like a goodbye.

“Maybe I am confused,” Riku mumbled.

“J-just stay awake, okay?” Lifting Riku's head up to meet his, Sora rested their foreheads together with both hands cupping Riku's face. There were sirens; it felt to Sora like they'd taken an eternity to sound. “We can talk about it later. When you're better.”

“Will you even talk to me, later?”

“What?” Sora was almost clinging, despite that he intended to be comforting and not the other way around. “Of course I will! I'm not mad anymore, Riku, I like you so, so much.”

His eyes seemed unfocused. Sora hoped desperately it was just the proximity. Riku murmured something - “You might not, after,” he tried to tell him – but it came out so slurred that Sora couldn't separate the sounds.

“Wha...?”

With bluish lips, Riku pressed a cold kiss to the corner of his lips, and whispered, “Sorry...”

Sora went tense with shock. “Riku?” he trembled tearfully, pulling back to sweep Riku's bangs away from his face.

He felt like a corpse, and his pupils were pinpricks.

The sirens blared from just outside, and there was a pounding at the door, and Riku was dying. Sora was utterly convinced that he was dying and he had no idea why or how it had happened.

“I-I have to let them in,” he tried to position Riku to stay upright against the couch, catching a glimpse of his arm – strangely marked but he couldn't understand, couldn't even see properly through his tears - “Just stay awake, okay? Just for one minute?”

Riku mumbled assent, but wanted nothing more than to just slide forward and sleep. If he even could, through the jerky and jarring shivers wracking his body.

His eyes closed.

There was movement all around him. He was floating. Sora wasn't far; he could hear him, answering a stranger's questions, voice higher and weaker than he'd ever heard it, but maybe it was all in his imagination. Someone was telling him to stay conscious, but he didn't think he knew how to try. Riku was moving. His legs weren't on the ground – no part of him was – but he was falling, head-first or headlong, and Sora's voice was becoming more faint.

“I want him with me,” Riku mumbled, eyes still closed. “Can I do that?”

He didn't find out whether or not Sora could stay by his side. He lost consciousness, and another paramedic's attempts to keep Sora from hyperventilating proved useless as Riku was loaded into the back of the ambulance and driven away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, and shattered hearts sent by mail are always appreciated.


	10. The Truth, and Other Things That Come Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to always talk about your feelings before you overdose on heroin: A message from concerned children's advertisers.

Everything since getting in the ambulance had gone far too fast... and then agonizingly slow.

As the only person present (Riku's parents had failed to arrive at the hospital, or even answer the first several calls), it had fallen to Sora to give information about Riku. His full name, his birthday, any allergies he had or medication he took; the answers came to his lips steadily, though his brain felt numb.

Those answers came easy. After all, he knew everything about Riku.

Then they'd started asking about how he came to be in this state, and everything stopped making sense. The last thing he understood was something about needles, and all the questions after that involved volumes and percentages and words that may as well have been in another language for all they meant to him.

Sora just shook his head over and over, as much to deny these nonsensical inquiries as to try and rid his ears of the buzzing in them that just kept getting louder.

He didn't know why everyone seemed to know something he didn't, the way they looked at him as he was dismissed to the waiting room. He went, limply and without a fuss, apart from confirming he'd be allowed to see Riku as soon as he was out of danger.

Not _if._

It might have been an hour or several that he waited after that. Though his gaze had found the clock on the wall almost obsessively, he couldn't ever recall it moving. At some point, he'd called home to let them know where he was, and would be, however long this took. Other than that, Sora only knew that sometimes he was sitting, and sometimes he was up and pacing the room.

No one else showed up to wait with him. Twice, he'd been approached by nurses. The first offered him some pill to help him calm down, which he didn't accept. The second, much later, gently informed him Riku had been moved to a room, and that he was allowed to see him.

Sora had never been required to turn out his pockets and shake out his sleeves to visit a hospital room before, but that seemed an insignificant detail.

Any hope of seeing Riku awake had been in vain. His eyes were still closed, and he looked as pale as he had in the ambulance, though his breathing wasn't shallow and fitful anymore. It was almost worse, that he was lying so still. The tubes and machines attached to him definitely were.

The same nurse wore a somber expression as she explained, but her words were drowned out by the same kind of white noise that had filled Sora's head when those same words had come up before. She pointed out Riku's symptoms, talked about treatments and security measures, and something about his parents again. It all washed over him, and he registered about as much as he had of anything that had been playing on the TV, constantly on in the background of the waiting room.

The one clear thing Sora understood was that none of it was _true_.

A single chair was provided for him, and he pulled it up to the bedside, preparing himself to keep a vigil there until Riku opened his eyes.

As long as it took.

The hours of waiting – of which there had been many – had lulled him to a fitful state of almost-sleep, and the nurses hadn't been able to bring themselves to move him. His eyes and nose were still puffy and dried out, rubbed red from crying.

The only reason he wasn't still alert, still at the very edge of the chair and watching Riku, trying to will him awake, was because he'd exhausted himself sobbing.

* * *

 

His first comprehensible thought was of relief. Any sense of awareness meant that he probably wasn't in a coma.

Only probably, because it wasn't like he'd ever experienced a coma before. How would he actually know? But, Riku was both aware and _aware_ that he was aware. He could feel things, now, too. His mouth and throat were dry to the point it was almost unbearable. There was an aching and twisting in his abdomen, as if his organs were trying to shrink themselves. He was becoming aware of something inside his arm, but it was too low to have been one of his needles, still, as well as a mattress and blankets under him, both of which felt thin and cheap.

So, he was awake, properly. Right? It made sense.

But then his stomach sank as it occurred to him why that was a concern to begin with, and he started re-evaluating how lucky he was to be awake. Riku's eyes remained closed, and he went over what he knew; the excess of heroin, the poor job he'd done hiding his evidence, and Sora.

God, Sora. Forget the trouble he was in, the fact that Sora _saw_ him like that...

His eyes finally opened. The hospital room was half-lit, and the drawn curtains made it impossible to tell what time of day it was. Or rather, how many hours or (he hoped not) days, he'd been unconscious. It wouldn't make much difference to know if it was night or day when the memory of how he'd come here was a haze. How could he know if the sun had been out or not, when all that swam to his mind's eye was Sora's face.

Sora, looking down at him from above. Sora, his features etched with fear and confusion. Sora, speaking panicked words to him he could barely make out, as though he was hearing through a barrier of heavy cotton.

Sora's tears, right before the shadows clawed their way inwards from the edges of his vision and overtook everything.

Riku's head turned heavily to his other side, and though a pang went through him, he wasn't surprised.

Beside him, unaware of the gut-wrenching guilt overtaking Riku as he stirred, Sora had curled up in a chair he'd dragged over to the bedside. He didn't even perk up when Riku's eyes opened, and the IV clinked against the metal bedframe.

Riku stared at his best friend, and wondered if he'd left his side even once.

It wasn't a surprise that his parents weren't present. They wouldn't wait around for him; they'd probably just get a call from a nurse, and then see him in good time. They'd probably draw it out, actually... They'd wait and make him sweat, worrying about what they would do. What they would say.

But Riku actually didn't care about them. Nothing could be worse than this.

“Sora?” he whispered numbly, and almost instantly his eyes snapped open.

“Mnuh-?” Sora lifted his head, looking up at Riku with bleary eyes.

Riku's already aching throat tightened, heart thudding painfully against his rib cage. “... You stayed.”

Sora said nothing, eyes downcast. Slowly, he clambered out of his crumpled-up position and stood up, stretching out his stiff legs.

“... How long was I-...?”

“A while.” Sora's voice was almost a wheeze, weak with a lack of sleep. Riku's stomach turned over.

He was still feeling the physical effects of what he'd done; the IV was keeping him mostly hydrated, and who knew what else, but his entire body was still... It was alight with unpleasant sensitivity. Still cold, still aching, still sick.

It all just kind of paled in comparison to seeing Sora like this.

“Do my parents know I'm here?”

“I don't know,” Sora sounded a little distant. “They called...”

Then they knew. He'd be disowned, or as good as. They'd been holding his adoption over his head... Well, since childhood, from the first day they decided that he just wasn't perfect enough for their liking. He could still remember watching his mother and father talking as though he wasn't there, discussing whether or not it had been a mistake to bother with him, if he could be returned to foster care, if anyone would even want such a...

Riku felt the cold like a sting. If they knew... If the doctors told his parents, did they also...?

“... Did they tell you what happened?”

Sora couldn't look at him. “They told me...something.”

A lie. Sora couldn't comprehend why doctors and nurses alike had been so determined to repeat this horrible accusation to him. They didn't see it was _impossible._ They didn't know Riku, they didn't _understand_ -...

“What was it?” Tension spiked through his spine like a metal rod.

“Th-they said...” Somehow, his head was hanging even lower. “... It's not true... Is it?”

Riku curled his hand into a fist, feeling the needle in his arm tug a little with the motion, and averted his eyes. The silence was all the answer Sora needed. He stepped away from the bed, rocking back on one heel.

“... I don't understand.”

“I wouldn't expect you to,” Riku muttered darkly.

Sora kept his head down. His eyes found Riku's inner arm again – the puncture marks, and those ugly spidery lines around them that even he couldn't explain away.

He really didn't have anything left in him to cry out. Somehow, in spite of it, his eyes stung with renewed tears, the raw skin around his eyes itching uncomfortably. One hand wrapped around the metal bed frame, holding himself up, and he asked, “A-are you really...my Riku?”

“Wh -” Riku jerked a little, about to lift his head but still unable to look at him. Unworthy of doing so. “What do you even mean?”

“I don't know who, but...” he stammered, “...my Riku w-wouldn't...”

“You have _no idea_ -...” Despite all logic, anger was coiling up like a defensive reflex. He didn't want to sound mad at Sora; he wasn't. It wasn't him, it wasn't anyone, _Riku_ was the problem, and still – “It's been-... It's hard to explain, okay...?”

Wounded, Sora shrunk in on himself. “... I'm scared I don't really know you at all...”

“This is the only thing – I've never lied about anything but this, I swear.”

“But... Why, then?” Sora still couldn't look at him. If Riku had turned his head, he would have confirmed as much, but he felt it anyway.

He owed him an explanation. If only he had one that didn't sound...weak.

“It just,” he began, and then wanted to start over. “It made things...”

He winced. Weak.

“... Easier to take, I guess. I started with less dangerous stuff, just to help me not care about...all the things that were confusing me. And the pressure, and-...” Weak. “I thought it cleared my head. I felt stronger.” So... pathetically... weak.

Sora's knuckles were white, every word like a pin in his heart. “But you're perfect.”

Humorlessly, Riku laughed. “And that's why I'm here right now, right?”

Sora winced like he'd been slapped across the face. With the way Riku was talking, he was starting to fear... And he hated that he had to ask... “Was it on purpose?”

It took Riku a second to understand. “That I – No-!” his eyes widened, looking towards Sora at last. “It wasn't like that, I was just... It wasn't working the same way, that's _all_... I wasn't trying to...”

Sora's lip trembled. He couldn't bear to hear any more. He wanted to storm from the room and nurse his hurt. He wanted to shout at Riku, tell him how hard it had been to sit alone all this time, not knowing if his best friend would wake up ever again; make him _feel_ it. He wanted to punch him. He wanted to kiss him.

Then he broke his self-imposed distance, flinging himself forward to cling to him. The position was awkward to avoid the IV, but Sora's grip was tight, tears spilling over again and starting to shake with sobs. “I was so scared!”

Riku didn't deserve to hold him. He did anyway, as tightly as he could manage. “...I'm sorry.”

“I-I didn't know... I didn't have any idea... I th-thought you were going to d-die...!” All articulation fell to pieces, after that, and Riku could say nothing in return. Sora cried into his shoulder, soaking the hospital gown through until his tear ducts quit on him. The sobs didn't stop for some time, dry and cracked, until eventually he sagged and calmed a little.

Sora was tempted to crawl into the bed beside him, curl against Riku and hold him until all the pain passed. But that pushed the boundaries of 'concerned friend', even by his standards. Riku mumbled weak apologies, and wished he wasn't craving heroin just to numb his guilt and his panic.

“... If I'd known things were that bad for you,” Sora whispered, tilting his face so he could be heard.

“I couldn't just tell you.”

“But why? You're my – my best friend,” he caught himself, but Riku hadn't noticed his near-slip.

“I couldn't talk about it. I had to be perfect, and stronger – _have_ to be...” Riku's arms began to slip a little, but he didn't let Sora go. “My parents... And, you always thought I was so much better at everything than I actually was... It's almost a relief, that you know now,” he muttered. “You've always been the stronger one.”

“No way,” Sora shook his head a little. “You were perfect to begin with.”

“... How do you even think that...?” Riku tried to look away, but had difficulty with Sora so close.

“You've always just been great at everything... Maybe, your parents-... I don't know how they don't see that.” He attempted a weak smile. “Come on, man, you can't just lose to me like that.”

“Sure I can.”

Sora's face fell. Riku had never said anything like that before. As long as they'd been friends, they teased each other, joked about never admitting defeat in the spirit of competition.

Riku never let himself say he'd lost.

“You're better than me,” Riku muttered frankly. “You're just so... You're everything I _wish_ I could... I want to-...”

He didn't know what he was trying to say. Sora shook his head vaguely, upset.

“Want what...?”

“... I don't know if I want to be like you, or want...” Riku trailed off, and he let go of Sora. “You should go...”

If anything, Sora was all the more determined not to. He clung tighter. “Please, Riku...”

“Especially after this, I shouldn't...”

“You don't even know how strong you are,” Sora told him softly, cutting him off before he could hear another rejection. “And even if you break sometimes, you never show it... Because you just want your friends to be happy, right? I wish you wouldn't, but I also really love... that.”

His arms found their way around Sora, again. Riku inhaled sharply, trying to make himself say something. When that failed, he just swallowed hard, controlled his breathing, and tried not to show any other signs of crumbling.

Sora mumbled Riku's name by his ear, holding onto him dearly.

He really wasn't strong, Riku lamented. He never would be. Not like Sora. Sora was strong enough to _forgive_ him, for what he'd done with Roxas... And even if he couldn't forgive him for this (and he'd never ask him to) he was still so far beyond -

If he just. If he had Sora, maybe he could be something like him. He'd piggyback on his strength like a parasite but maybe one day be good enough to function on his own.

“... I'll stop doing it,” he exhaled slowly, and took some time to speak. “If I need rehab-... I'll do that.”

Sora's eyes lifted. “Wait, really?”

“I don't want to do this to you again.”

Steeling himself, Sora mustered a great amount of effort to admit, “I'm not...mad. Worry about yourself, huh?”

“Then what are you?” Pressing at him, Riku coaxed Sora away from him. “If you're not mad, then?”

Sora chewed the inside of his mouth in a rare moment of thinking before he spoke. Anyone would advise him not to trust Riku now, so soon after all these lies had come to light. Quitting could be an empty promise – it was just too easy, too fast to be true.

But then, maybe Riku _needed_ someone to trust him now. Sora had always been that person, to him, taking him at his word and never wavering in his faith. He'd said so himself that Sora was strong, that meant he could be strong _for_ him.

That settled it.

“Maybe a bit sad,” Sora admitted, not about to deny this still hurt. “But... I just want you to get better, Riku. That's all I want.” He was a bit limp, not trying to pull Riku back to him, even though he wanted to. “And if you're going to stop, then I'll do anything I can to help.”

What Riku wanted to say was 'I don't deserve you.' He _didn't_ deserve a friend like Sora. But speech didn't come easy, and impulsively kissing him on the cheek did.

Sora's eyes went as round as quarters. Riku's heart metaphorically stopped and he wondered if he should apologize.

“Huh-” he choked a little, slowly dissolving into tears again, but inexplicably he was smiling.

“Sora?” Riku stared, alarmed.

“You're s-so perfect...”

Suddenly he wasn't thinking about whether or not Riku would react badly. He just _needed_ him. While Riku was trying to figure out how he could possibly say such a thing, Sora was pushing forward to kiss him, the contact chaste but firm.

Riku's world imploded with shock. Then he was kissing him back, Sora grasping the hospital gown, Riku holding his shoulders.

Warmth blossomed in Sora's chest, but it dissipated when Riku abruptly pulled away, panic flaring through them both.

Oh no. He was so stupid.

He'd _kissed Riku_. Now, of all times, when he was in the _hospital_ – he'd done something terribly wrong - “I'm sorry-!”

“No,” Riku stammered, cutting him off. “It's okay... It's okay, I kissed back, didn't I?”

Sora's fingertips brushed his own lips, still afraid, but some of it was allayed when Riku brought him close again.

… He _had_ kissed back.

“I might like you,” Riku sounded a little strangled, like he'd just confessed something worse than the drugs ever could be.

“Like...” Sora's heart beat faster, trying to put that together; god, so much had happened in such a short amount of time, and Sora's brain wasn't made to process this much all at once. “ _That?_ ”

“Yeah,” Riku confirmed, head tilted away. “I wasn't sure... I don't even know if I'm gay, I don't think I am, I just... I think I like you.”

… He had to know. “Is that why... With Roxas?”

Sora regretted asking instantly. Riku went tense.

“Roxas practically blackmailed me, and I was high.”

“... Oh.” That explained why Roxas hadn't sounded surprised, over the phone.

“It was a mistake,” Riku was trying to apologize. “I never would have, if he hadn't _coerced_ me...”

“I just wish I'd _known_ before it had to happen,” Sora chewed his lip, feeling a bit of that thunderstruck hurt he'd been faced with when he'd discovered them...together.

“About which part?” Riku gave a short, hollow laugh. “The heroin, or that I like you?”

“Both, I guess,” Sora winced.

“...I didn't really know, I-I wasn't sure. I'm still not sure – I don't know what to think,” he despaired, and Sora almost hushed him.

He didn't want to be the source of any pain, but Sora had never had the chance to tell him before. Not that he remembered.

“... I've been sure for a while now,” he confessed. Riku, somehow, didn't register surprise. Even without the kiss, it wasn't as shocking a revelation as it would have been any other day.

“How long have you...?”

“A while,” Sora repeated. “After that time I tried to go out with Kairi, we ended up talking instead, and...yeah.”

Riku remembered that date vividly, with a familiar – and far more identifiable – ripple of jealousy. He used to feel it more intensely, any time his two childhood friends dating was a topic of conversation, but he'd always just assumed that Kairi was the focus.

“But I never thought you would ever feel that way, so...” Sora finished, biting his lip briefly. Riku's shame was a fresh wound, easy to pick at, and it hit him anew over his own uncertainty. The hand unimpeded by the IV took hold of Sora's.

“... I'm sorry,” Riku squeezed it softly. “For hurting you, before, and with this.”

Sora considered his answer for a long time. “I guess you can start making it up to me.”

“How can I...?”

If Sora were a lesser person, he might have said that they needed to be together. He might have kissed Riku again, told him that dating was a good place to start, but those thoughts didn't even enter his head. Riku was the lesser person for wishing that he _would_ , to take away the burden of responsibility for his feelings.

“Just...get better,” Sora requested finally. “And don't hide anything from me anymore. Ever.”

That was more than reasonable, for a start. “I promise, I won't.”

 _Now_ Sora was thinking of kissing him, but it didn't seem right. Part of him was still convinced he'd imagined the last few minutes, or dreamed this entire conversation. Even if it was real, he thought he shouldn't push for too much right away.

If it _was_ real, he could wait as long as it took for that privilege. He'd waited this long, and there were more important things they both needed first.

“Then... That's it.”

“Honestly?” It wasn't enough, but Sora didn't seem to think so.

“ _Ever_ ,” he stressed firmly.

Riku began to nod. “Ever. Got it.”

Sora smiled, and even though it lacked its usual sunny brilliance, it still lit up the room. “Oh! I kinda forgot to ask... How are you feeling?”

Honesty, Riku remembered. Lying was second nature to him, but he had to start turning that around now. “... Hazy. Still a bit cold. It's better...” Not two seconds, and he was already struggling with _honesty_. “... But I feel like I need another hit.”

Sora winced a little, but still appreciated his immediate adherence to his terms. “Well...you can't have that. Anything else?”

Riku laughed, honestly this time, which neither of them expected. “Not really. Except -...”

Sora filled in the pause, squeezing Riku's hand. “Yeah?”

“My parents will show up eventually,” his gaze lowered. Weak. But if he had Sora... “Could you...stay with me, until they do? I just. I don't think I can face them alone.”

Sora's hand slipped out of his. Riku's eyes closed, opening his mouth to say that he understood, he absolutely didn't have to stay any longer. The squeal of the chair across the linoleum drowned out the start of a word, though, as Sora dragged it closer and plopped into it.

He took Riku's hand again.

“You don't have to be alone.”


	11. The Ballad of Demyx's Sad Boner

Shopping dates were somewhat troublesome to coordinate for the two of them, given the wild difference between Demyx and Zexion's respective interests. It wasn't at all difficult to reach compromises – Zexion respected Demyx's pursuits and usually could find an intellectual aspect to even the most dingy record store, and Demyx's _main_ interest was in most every store they visited. That main interest being, obviously, Zexion.

Still, if they actually had a place to go already in mind, it was usually more practical to split up and meet somewhere in the middle. This was an arrangement that suited them just fine and had never yet gone awry.

'Awry' still wasn't the word Zexion would have even used for the events of that afternoon. Demyx simply hadn't been entirely honest about where he wanted to go, and as such it was a coincidence that they wound up going almost the same way. Demyx hadn't noticed, but Zexion certainly had.

He had been en-route to his last stop (a second-hand bookstore that sold non-fiction for dirt cheap) when he'd glimpsed Demyx across the street, leaving a...

Well. It was the downtown area. Outlets for sex paraphernalia weren't uncommon. He just hadn't expected to see his boyfriend leaving one, carrying a discreet black bag which he began furtively stowing into his ratty backpack the moment he had both feet on the sidewalk.

Zexion could only imagine what he might have bought... And not very imaginatively or accurately. Truthfully, he wouldn't have confessed to many blind spots in his knowledge, but _sex_ had simply never been relevant in his life. It wasn't as though his body lacked the capacity; his hormones functioned exactly as they should, indicating that he was in perfect red-blooded, able-bodied health.

His look into sexual education (outside the woefully inadequate information provided by the high school nurse) had been limited to researching and pinpointing the terms that applied to him directly. A lack of effective visual stimulus and overall indifference to sex had led him to the very logical conclusion that he was asexual, and he'd concluded his investigation there. That seemed to be the end of it.

Then he'd done something most unexpected. He got a boyfriend.

Demyx had almost been a flaw in his data, before doing a little more looking around and learning that finding Demyx strangely charming didn't necessarily contradict who he was. A split, between romantic and sexual attraction – this new data didn't disprove his former conclusion, only expanded on it.

But still, he'd managed to overlook something, and that was that _Demyx_ could be missing what he lacked from his old lifestyle.

It wasn't until the appearance of that mysterious black bag that it occurred to him at all. Sex wasn't a _thing_ that entered his frame of consciousness often, and Demyx hadn't mentioned it.

To his minor embarrassment, he realized he'd just sort of...forgotten about it.

As with any new puzzle or dilemma, Zexion couldn't get his mind off it _now_ , as he waited on Demyx's couch for him to return to the living room. He'd darted off, claiming that he wanted to change into comfier clothing, but no doubt he also wanted to take the opportunity to stash his... Whatever it was.

It was very difficult not to blush. If only Zexion had a lab coat. Lab coats made every conundrum feel scientific and detached. Zexion had gently turned down Demyx's offer to borrow 'snuggle clothes', but he may not have if only he had one of those in his wardrobe.

With a prominent bounce in his step, Demyx returned to the living room and dropped onto the couch beside Zexion. “You don't have homework, right? Want to do something?”

New factors created new problems. Zexion had _never_ had this issue before, in which everything sounded like a potential innuendo. “Did you...have something in mind?”

He thought of Axel, his occasional lab partner. Was this what it was like to be in his mind all the time?

“Not really,” Demyx pulled his legs up onto the couch. Fuzzy legs, decorated with cartoon fish. They were ridiculous, objectively, but on him they became endearingly... Demyx-like. “Just wanted to do stuff with you.”

'Stuff'? That was maddeningly vague, at a time like this. _Stuff_ , Zexion understood, could mean any number of things.

“Oh,” Zexion flushed. “Alright.”

It was a surprise to see him blushing unprompted. Demyx tilted his head slightly to get a better look at his face, and expertly contained himself from reddening right back. He was becoming a regular pro at this; he could put off his sexual urges almost without even trying now, so long as they were _put off_ and not just _repressed_. He'd take care of that later, he promised himself, with his new 'friend'. While he had this precious time with Zexion here, nothing would distract from his date.

But if he could keep the picture of his flushed face in his memory for later...

“Are you okay?” Demyx questioned. Maybe he had a fever – oh god, okay, that would make him actually the worst person in the world if he masturbated to the face Zexion made when _sick_. He might have to rethink his private-time plans.

“Yes, well...” clearing his throat, Zexion folded his hands in his lap and turned towards Demyx. “Perhaps we could just...talk.”

Demyx was always happy to talk. He almost kind of hoped it would be about one of those smart-people things he didn't understand, even if it was less of a conversation and more of a lecture in those instances. There was something really attractive about Zexion using long words and terms he didn't understand.

“What about?”

Never in his life had Zexion had so much trouble articulating. Not even in infancy, when his diction was on-par with babbling. It took a few false starts, in which Demyx became all the more concerned, before he began, “This afternoon... I couldn't help but notice...”

_Oh no, everything was ruined._

Looking caught and flustered, Demyx optimistically tried, “Oh, uh... Notice what?”

It might not be a disaster. It wasn't necessarily _that_ he noticed. Zexion could have noticed a lot of things. In fact, Zexion probably noticed more than most people, because he was so used to observing science-y things! Yeah!

“Before we met by the bookshop... It isn't terribly important... I thought I might ask, though...”

Every word was like a sinking weight. Never mind, the end of Demyx's life was back on.

Demyx buried his face, mortified. “You _saw?_ ”

“If it's acceptable for me to ask about that...” _Was_ it acceptable? Zexion wasn't even familiar with how one might discuss sexual practices and preferences.

“I guess,” Demyx was muffled. “I mean... We're boyfriends... Boyfriends can talk about that...”

His continued hiding was starting to make Zexion uncomfortable. Gingerly, he coaxed Demyx's head up out of his hands. “I only-... I hadn't thought about it before. I understand how your life was, formerly...”

“Um,” all the blood in Demyx's body was fighting for residence in his face. “Yeah...”

“Perhaps I've been...neglectful,” Zexion suggested uncertainly. “If that's something you still feel that you need...”

“N-no!” Demyx's eyes widened, sitting up straight all at once. “I mean – If you don't want to – you aren't neglectful, this is good, this is _really good_ and I'm happy and please, please don't feel like you _have_ to 'cause I don't want to pressure you if you aren't ready or, you might not even want -”

Zexion silenced him by holding up one hand, close enough to brush Demyx's lips. “I only thought that we should talk about it.”

Steam could've shot out of Demyx's ears and he wouldn't have even thought he'd entered the world of cartoons. It just seemed like a totally plausible thing at that moment. “... 'Kay...”

Lowering his hand, Zexion took a slow breath and carefully determined where he wanted to start. “Have you been missing it...?”

“... Kind of,” Demyx looked deeply embarrassed. “I mean, I like sex...a lot... But...”

“I see.” Zexion felt almost guilty for not noticing – but then, why _would_ he have? “And are you interested in me, in that manner?”

“Of course!” Demyx nodded, giving an immediate and honestly baffling reply. “You're really -”

He stopped himself. Maybe Zexion wouldn't want to hear this. But... If he didn't say it now, would he ever?

“...You're hot and you do all these sexy things by accident and then there are things you do that aren't sexy but you _make_ them sexy somehow.”

He was doing that thing, where he brought his head forward so that his long bangs would fall into his face. Demyx was familiar with that gesture; Zexion reflexively shielded himself when embarrassed. “I had no idea,” he confessed, sounding just a touch overwhelmed.

“... Sorry,” Demyx bit his lip, and much like Zexion had done before, he tilted his boyfriend's chin up a little so he wouldn't hide. “I don't want you to feel awkward about it. It's not like I'm just gonna jump you, and... Even if you never want to, that's okay. I don't think you really, um...think of me that way, right?”

Every word was sincere – one of the things Zexion actually liked most about him was that there was never a hidden agenda, with Demyx. He was so accustomed to assuming everyone had a hidden motivation, some farce that they were hiding behind, that it had taken him a while to really understand how foreign a concept that was to Demyx.

If he said it, he meant it. It took some of the pressure off.

“I do trust you,” Zexion told him. “I honestly haven't thought about it before. For myself, anyway.”

“What d'you mean?” He looked confused.

“Only that I'd never considered sex before. Not as something I might do, personally. But I never anticipated having a boyfriend, either...”

It wasn't as though the very idea of sex was abhorrent to him. It didn't particularly thrill him to think about, either. Put bluntly, for all the relevance sex seemed to have ever had in his life, Zexion may as well have pondered on whether he'd fly someday.

But... to Demyx, sex was real. Something he'd at least have previously sought after, if not now. That made the notion worthy of Zexion's considerable powers of reasoning.

Whether that meant he'd ever be _attracted_ to Demyx, in a physical sense, he didn't know. But he had reason to doubt it. Such things were well and truly beyond him.

Absently, Demyx's hand had found one of Zexion's, toying gently with his fingers. “If you do think about it... Whatever you want to do, it's okay by me. I just want to keep dating you... Sex doesn't have to be a _thing_ , if you don't want.” The blush was back. “Like, I got, um, toys. To tide me over. So I'm okay.”

Despite himself, Zexion was curious. “What sort of...?”

The temptation to bury his face again was great. Demyx lowered his voice, like saying it too loud would alienate Zexion completely. “A vibrator...”

“A...?” It took Zexion a second to place what that probably meant, and looked like. “Oh.”

Demyx's nerves whispered sharp, terribly plausible-seeming things to him. Even quieter, eyes on their joined hands, he asked, “You wouldn't leave me 'cause of sex, right? Whether we have it or not?”

That caught him by surprise, so much so that Zexion was nearly offended, until understanding came a half-second later. “Of course I wouldn't.”

Suddenly, the reason this conversation had taken so long to happen became clear.

“Demyx, I'm not upset,” Zexion elaborated, lowering his already soft voice to suit the need to make his sincerity known, “I understand. Or, I sympathize.”

Visibly, he relaxed. “You do?”

“I do like you, Demyx, which is something I once thought I couldn't have with anyone. And...” Zexion steeled himself a little; it wasn't that the prospect frightened him, it was just so new, and _strange_. “It isn't impossible that I'd be willing to...experiment, some day.”

Demyx tried not to light up too much, nodding. After the second-long bolt of hope produced by his wannabe boner, he found the reassurance that Zexion really _liked_ him felt way better than sex, anyway. “Okay. If you ever want to, I'm-... Yeah, I'll-... We can...”

“If we were ever to...” Zexion chose his words with great care, and found them all lacking. “Would you be interested in... That is to say...given what you purchased today...”

Demyx blinked. “You mean like, you're asking who'd top?”

“I suppose that is the term,” he agreed. Zexion would have to do some reading on the subject before being sure what that even physically translated to. Apart from the obvious.

“Well... We could always switch, if you wanted to try both... I like both. So, if you wanted me to...”

“That sounds reasonable,” Zexion nodded. One couldn't conduct an experiment with two distinct sides and only approach it from one of them.

“When you're ready, I mean,” Demyx was unable to help repeating himself. Zexion looked pensive, and kind of had that _look_ , like he was this close to departing to start going through stacks of books and reputable Internet sources.

That would leave Demyx with nothing to do but think about sex with Zexion, and getting hard _now_ would just make everything twice as awkward. Not to mention, he did _not_ want sex to get in the way of their together-time.

“... Did you wanna watch a movie?”

Zexion snapped out of his train of thought, blushing but agreeing, and they went about the rest of their date as normal.

 

* * *

 

_'Text me later if you want.'_

Shit like that confused Axel like nothing else. But, he _did_ want. He thought that had been good and established sometime around the handcuffs and potential for heatstroke.

But it had to be calculated. Not too eager – that would send red flags up Roxas's flagpole. Not too late, or he'd just get irritated, hearing from Axel long after he'd determined that they were done with each other for good.

So he waited about two hours after he woke up.

_[Axel. 2:41 PM] 'So by not locking my door, all my shit was stolen and I've been taken as a hostage. They're asking for one hundred thou. If you could round that up before Monday, that'd be cool.'_

_[Roxas. 2:43 PM] 'So you're awake.'_

That sounded no crankier than usual. Good, he hadn't done anything to set him off yet.

_[Axel. 2:43 PM] 'Your surprise comes through clear on text. Why, did you knock me out? Was this a set-up?'_

_[Roxas. 2:44 PM] 'I didn't need to.'_

_[Axel. 2:44 PM] 'So you don't deny the set-up.'_

_[Roxas. 2:44 PM] 'You got me.'_

_[Axel. 2:45 PM] 'Ouch. I've never been so betrayed.'_

_[Roxas. 2:46 PM] 'so...'_

_[Axel. 2:46 PM] 'So, assuming I give my kidnappers the slip, do you wanna hang?'_

Thankfully, no one was around to see Axel eyeing his phone every few seconds in the delay that followed, opening and closing his messages to make sure a missed notification wasn't the culprit for Roxas's brief silence.

_[Roxas. 2:49 PM] 'Can't today.'_

_[Roxas. 2:49 PM] 'you still want to?'_

_[Axel. 2:53 PM] 'Course I do. For whatever.'_

This was in Roxas's hands. He'd decided that before he'd texted him at all. Axel's first choice wasn't on the table, that much had been made painfully clear. The rest came down to what Roxas was willing to do.

It was unexpected enough that he'd responded at all.

_[Roxas. 3:01 PM] 'I want to hang out'_

_[Roxas. 3:01 PM] 'but hooking up is good too.'_

_[Axel. 3:02 PM] 'Should we try both, or make this a one-or-the-other deal? Up to you.'_

_[Roxas. 3:13 PM] 'Both doesn't work.'_

_[Axel. 3:16 PM] 'From experience I guess I have to agree.'_

_[Roxas. 3:17 PM] 'Fine.'_

Between all the pauses, all the over-thinking on both ends, Axel had regressed to merely being stunned that Roxas seemed willing to have any contact with him at all. Roxas, for his part, had come to the conclusion that this cycle of casual-sex-only with Axel could only end in losing him again.

_[Axel. 3:18 PM] 'Fine?'_

_[Roxas. 3:18 PM] 'Let's just be friends then.'_

_[Roxas. 3:18 PM] 'regular friends.'_

Yup. Pretty much just stunned.

At least, Roxas thought, by making this agreement... Axel couldn't possibly get upset about him sleeping around. Not if they'd established _for sure_ that they weren't dancing the horizontal tango anymore.

_[Axel. 3:20 PM] 'That works for me.'_

_[Roxas. 3:20 PM] 'Cool'_

_[Axel. 3:20 PM] 'So whenever you're free, we could hang out.'_

_[Roxas. 3:21 PM] 'I have Sunday free til four.'_

_[Axel. 3:21 PM] 'Sweet. How do you feel about ice cream?'_

_[Roxas. 3:22 PM] 'I'm yours.'_

Oh god. Un-send.

Fuck. Couldn't undo a text that had already sent.

_[Roxas. 3:22 PM] 'sorry'_

_[Axel. 3:23 PM] 'It's cool. I took that in the platonic spirit it was intended.'_

No, he almost hadn't.

_[Axel. 3:23 PM] 'So Sunday? What time?'_

_[Roxas. 3:24 PM] 'I won't wake up earlier than eleven for anything.'_

_[Axel. 3:25 PM] 'Noon?'_

_[Roxas. 3:26 PM] 'Sure. Where?'_

And that was how Axel found himself going to his favorite ice cream place for purposes other than avoiding being home, or mourning. That said, he wasn't so sure he _wasn't_ mourning.

Platonic, proper friends. He _did_ want that with Roxas, but honestly, the lack-of-sex thing kind of threw him for a loop. He and Roxas had sexual chemistry like no one else, and as a budding chemist, it bothered Axel to not see that put into practice.

Not having Roxas around would bother him a hell of a lot more, though. He had to build himself a bridge and get over it. Get back on the horse. … Wrap his head around Roxas honestly wanting to give genuine friendship a try.

 _That_ was what was throwing him the most, actually. The convincing thought (or fear) that Roxas really didn't have any interest in anything but the contents of his pants. Would they even still get along?

If they didn't mesh as friends, Roxas happened to be telling himself at that moment, maybe he'd figure out a way to salvage the situation. Axel would probably get offended if he pulled a, 'Turns out you're not as easy to get along with when I'm not riding your face as I thought. Want to go back to screwing?'

It was kind of a new and not altogether pleasant feeling, body abuzz with unfulfilled needs (not nearly as bad as it would have been without the events of Friday night) and preparing to just innocently spend time with a guy he found sexy. Not to mention, it had been ages since he'd had ice cream, and there was just something weird about it in his psyche.

Maybe that had to do with the last guy who liked to get him ice cream and foam drinks, for the sake of the imagery it created. Roxas hadn't even been overly fond of vanilla to begin with, but hey, why decline free desserts?

“Hey,” Axel greeted as Roxas approached the storefront. He'd scarcely even been waiting a minute, and he kind of wished he'd had longer to prepare himself for this.

“Hey,” Roxas stopped right outside the door, expressionless. “Interesting spot.”

“Ice cream keeps me young and full of childlike wonder.”

“You've got enough child in you already,” Roxas followed him in, kind of...not sure he'd actually expected them to go _in_. He'd sort of thought they were just finding a middle point to connect at, and going from there. “Guess this tells me why...”

Axel snorted, approaching the vast counter. The selection they offered was both impressive and insane; they had a full three-page menu of the types of sundaes and milkshakes they made, soft-serve machines and ice cream bars, and great tubs of it to scoop cones for the on-the-go customer.

“Which do you want?” Axel inquired, looking over his shoulder. Roxas was a little floored, trying to process the excess of desserts and, in the back of his mind, thinking that Sora should know about this place if he didn't already.

“Uh... I don't know.”

“You're getting my favorite, then.” The cashier beckoned them forward, and to Roxas's reflexive distaste, he ordered, “Two bars of sea salt.”

“Salt _ice cream?_ ” he repeated dubiously, the girl behind the counter already turning to oblige.

“Just trust me. It's a lot better than you think.” Axel sure sounded confident, but any guy who had tattoos on his face had to be self-assured by design.

“I'll try it,” Roxas raised an eyebrow, not sure he was convinced. “Who's paying?”

“I've got it, since you don't even know if you like it, yet,” Axel withdrew his debit card, paying for both bars and accepting his ice cream with his other hand. Roxas took his, looking around the shop with even less enthusiasm.

Loud, squawking children. Ice cream, he could do, but there was no way he wanted to be around a bunch of screaming kids. “Thanks. C'mon, walking.”

“I'm all for that,” Axel agreed, already peeling the wrapper off his bar and giving it a lick. Roxas tore the plastic, discarding the wrapper on their way to the door, and giving it a very tentative lick as he pushed open the door.

Roxas froze.

Catching the door before it closed on the two of them, Axel gave it a little push to open the rest of the way and glanced down at him. “What do you think?”

“Holy _fuck_.”

“Told you.”

They left the shop, Roxas's tongue running up the bar and wrapping his mouth around the end of it, all the while wide-eyed. Axel was, for the moment, enjoying being right, and couldn't apply any sexual connotations to what he was doing.

“We're coming back here,” Roxas informed him, licking his lips and leading them both in the direction of his place, which was only a few blocks away. “Possibly today.”

“Cool by me,” he grinned, pleased and a tiny bit smug.

“This is so fucking weird...” Roxas swirled his tongue around it, the salty-sweet lighting up taste buds in a way that he really thought _shouldn't_ work as well as it did.

 _There_ were the sexual connotations. Axel stared, entirely forgetting what he'd been about to respond with.

Man, what pretty lips. Pretty, platonic lips, that he was admiring as a bro would. Bros just admired the shape of their bro's lips all the time, right? Nothing weird or non-friendly about that.

“... You cool with just going back to my place?” Roxas glanced up at him.

“Yeah.” Wait, shit, he hadn't actually listened to the question. What did he agree to?

“One or both of my brothers might be home. Probably just Sora, though...” Roxas mused, more to himself, and might have celebrated that plausibility if it weren't for _other_ factors.

Sora hadn't wanted to leave the hospital. When he'd finally come home, it had been in a state of righteous misery. Riku's parents had forbade him from seeing anyone, while he was recovering and rehab preparations were being made. In light of their recently repaired relationship, Roxas had kept his opinions on the matter to himself, and just expressed some sympathy that his brother was having such a hard time.

But for fuck's sake, how did Riku almost killing himself, revealing all his dirty secrets in the process, actually manage to _mend_ their friendship?!

He really would have preferred Sora have _no_ contact with Riku whatsoever, and at first he'd thought that being banned from his bedside would accomplish that. The unfortunate result was that Riku now called him constantly, spending every available moment on the phone with Sora, and that meant Roxas was subjected to one half of the conversation. Sora's volume went up by a decibel whenever he was on the phone. It was like he didn't quite know how they worked and thought the receiver needed him to _shout_ everything.

There was no justice in any of it. All the harm he'd caused amounted to nothing.

He did _not_ like feeling like the asshole here.

“Ah, right. He seemed cool.”

Roxas shot Axel a strange look, eyebrows raised. “Huh?”

“Brunette with crazy spiky hair, right?” Axel supplied, even though he knew that completely well. It was a relief he'd be around – Sora had been pleasant company, and just his presence would be enough to remind Axel that sex was off the table. And Sora's bed.

“Yeah...” Roxas looked bewildered. “How'd you meet my brother?”

“That ice cream place, actually. All upset over – uh. Y'know.”

“Oh,” Roxas's expression soured. “Okay.”

There was really no backpedaling on that one. Axel tried to produce the magical string of words to turn the conversation back to something light and friendly, and came up with, “... He's a nice guy, though.”

“Sora? Yeah, that pretty much sums him up.”

That wasn't a _horrible_ reaction. Back in the game. “I, uh, met your other brother too.”

“Ven?” Roxas looked even more startled, perhaps wondering if Axel was about to reveal that he got together every other weekend with his parents to catch up on news.

“Yeah. Saw him with his boyfriend, once. It was seriously disorienting.”

It took Roxas a beat to get back on the same page and understand why. “Oh. Yeah. Identical, you know.”

“Didn't realize. Out of curiosity...” and knowing it wasn't _his_ place to judge, all things considered, “...how much older _is_ that guy he's dating?”

“I forget exactly. He's like, twenty-something.”

No judgment. But, “Guy looks like his adoptive parent.”

“Yeah, it's...a thing,” Roxas hesitated, looking for all the world like he'd already had some thoughts as to how much of a 'thing' it was, and wished to erase the lingering theory. “I thought he wanted him to be his big brother or something, but I guess not.”

“To each his own, I guess,” Axel shrugged, landing on a conclusion based on all the evidence provided.

Daddy kink. He was almost sure of it.

“My parents are constantly freaked about it. They like Terra, but they think he's too old and Ven's too young.”

“... _That's_ what they're freaked about?”

Roxas glanced up at him, about to take another savoring lick of ice cream, which he was trying to make last as possible without letting it melt. “... Yeah?”

“... They don't know what you get up to, huh.”

“ _Hell_ no,” Roxas stressed. “They don't even know I've had sex at all.”

“So, if I happen to meet them...”

“We're friends. We met at a school fair for Hollow Bastion, and started hanging out,” Roxas provided seamlessly. “They'll like me having a friend there.”

Like he'd bring some unknown college guy over without a story to back it up.

“Got it,” Axel nodded, polishing off his ice cream. Lying to parents was something of a specialty. He followed Roxas down a side street and across – without a crosswalk, which was a _crime_ for which they could have incurred a _fine_ for if they were caught – before picking up the conversation from where they'd put it on hold. “So you don't have other college friends? Or just ones you can't talk about?”

“Not unless Demyx counts.” He absolutely did not count. “Most of the guys I end up with more than once are a bit...older.”

One eyebrow arched. Axel was so not ready to know more about that. “Ah.”

Roxas felt no need to expand on that without probing, finishing off his ice cream and holding the stick between his teeth as he cut across the driveway to a kind of picturesque three-bedroom house. Neither his mother's or father's car was in the driveway, to Roxas's relief – not that he doubted Axel's ability to bullshit, but avoiding any situation in which his parents might come face-to-tattooed-face with Axel was definitely the preferred scenario.

Axel stepped inside when the door was unlocked, taking a look around the foyer as he trodded on the back of his running shoes to pry his feet out of them. “Huh. Nice place.”

“It's alright,” Roxas kicked his own shoes into a pile of others, all very alike in size. “Works for me.”

Perhaps drawn out of hiding by sound, as many social creatures were, Sora was heading down the stairs, bright-eyed even though he hadn't entirely bounced back from his exhaustion.

“Hey, Roxy -...” Sora stopped on the bottom stair and beamed at Axel, recognizing him with some surprise. “ _Hey!_ ”

“Hey,” Axel grinned a little back. “You look happier.”

“I do-? Oh, yeah,” Sora's surprise was perhaps reflective of how he actually felt at the moment, but he remembered how they'd met, and he supposed _anything_ was better than the devastation he'd been suffering through at the time. “Things are better with Riku! I mean, some hard stuff happened... Um, is happening, actually, but still! It's better.”

Roxas thought an argument could've been made for the opposite, but held his tongue. Sort of. There may have been a cold mutter of, “One overdose later,” but it hadn't been loud enough for Sora to hear.

 _Axel_ caught that, though, eyebrows raising and flooded with discomfort. Still, he nodded to Sora. “Glad it's in the process of working out.”

“How are you doing?” Sora's eyes slid to Roxas. “Are you guys...?”

Intercepting his conclusions or further questions, Axel cleared his throat. “We're hanging out...” His eyes flickered to Roxas, as well. “Friends. Right?”

“Friends,” Roxas confirmed, giving Sora a bit of a _look_ that probably communicated something in triplet-code. Sora shrank a little, his smile almost faltering.

“Okay...” Miraculously, Sora still _sounded_ upbeat. “Cool!”

Damn it, Axel was starting to get uncomfortable. His arm was lazily caught on the way by, Roxas starting to urge them towards the stairs.

“C'mon. My room.” Roxas kind of just wanted to avoid any further conversation between Axel, Sora, and himself, otherwise he would have chosen the much-safer, more-public and very, very platonic living room.

Axel was questioning the wisdom of that decision, himself, but didn't argue. “Sure. Later,” he nodded to Sora on the way by.

“Wait!” Sora scrambled for his back pocket. “Let me give you my number first.”

Seeing Axel more than once had apparently qualified him for the status of 'friend worthy of texting'. Axel grinned, withdrawing his own phone. “Yeah, for sure...”

Roxas sighed, and proceeded up the stairs to his bedroom. Axel would be clever enough to follow.

“Just text me something...”

“Uh-huh. Got it?”

“Yup, thanks!”

“Text me whenever. I'm gonna go follow Roxas.”

At his bedroom door, Roxas glanced back towards the stairs.

“Yeah. Good luck, I think.” Sora sounded vaguely uncertain, but at least he was no more confused then Axel himself. He wasn't even sure what 'good luck' would result in, or how much he needed it.

He thought Sora probably needed his best wishes more than the other way around, but it felt a little too awkward to bring up without giving away that he'd pieced together the situation, so Axel just headed up to Roxas's room. The door had been left open so he could figure out which one was which, Roxas checking something on his computer while he waited and toying with the popsicle stick.

“Sorry 'bout the hold up,” Axel closed the door behind him.

“Whatever,” he sounded unconcerned, turning away from the screen. “What d'you want to do?”

Now was not the appropriate time for smart-ass suggestions. Cautiously, Axel stepped into the room. “I'm good for whatever you've got... Up to the host to entertain, right?”

“I guess.” Roxas wasn't actually familiar with having someone over – he didn't even often invite Hayner to his house, typically just _going_ places with his friends. “Got some movies, or games if you want.”

A movie would leave their hands free. Red card, bad idea. “Game's good,” Axel started to approach the only sitting space available to him, which was the bed. This could all go so horribly wrong.

“'Kay,” Roxas got up to start looking through his messy pile of games, turning his computer monitor a bit to be more visible to the both of them. Pretty much all of them involved swordplay in some capacity. “Only one controller in here. Have to borrow one of Sora's if we do something two-player.”

If only he'd mentioned that before Axel had sat down. He was already in the middle of stretching out and making himself at a home (except, the pants stayed on). Getting up just sounded massively inconvenient.

“We can always swap,” he shrugged.

“'Kay,” Roxas reduced their options to the one-player games, selecting one that wasn't too hard to follow. Inserting it into the disk reader, he tossed Axel the controller to allow him first play, figuring he'd try to cram some homework in while he wasn't the active participant.

While it loaded, Axel dragged himself into a position that could almost be called 'sitting up', and Roxas got out a binder from the bag half-shoved under his bed.

The bed sank a bit when Roxas settled next to him, but Axel didn't pay him much attention. He was busy checking out the game options and starting a new playthrough, not recognizing the game either by title or by sight.

Nonetheless, he skipped the tutorial immediately. “Fuck that. I'll figure it out.”

“It's not really that hard,” Roxas verified, flipping open his binder to the photocopied pages of his assignment. “Just work out the combos and you're good.”

“Mm-hm,” Axel leaned forward, paying only partial attention to the opening cinematic. Roxas, who had seen it many times already, looked down at his book for the duration, then elected to ignore it to watch Axel's progress as the gameplay began.

Impressively, he managed to die pretty much right away.

“Wait for the command to react,” Roxas snickered. “You're missing all the timing.”

“I'll get it,” Axel growled at his character, restarting and skipping the intro.

“Want me to shut up?”

“Give me time to figure it out,” Axel pushed him absently.

Roxas shoved him back, eyes now on Axel instead of the monitor.

“Rude, I'm _gaming_.”

“You started it.”

Axel's lips curled into a smirk. Roxas zeroed in on them. “That's a mature argument,” Axel grinned, focused on the game. He was timing it better, this time around, and experimenting with combos by pressing buttons in succession to see if they'd do anything when strung together.

“You're lecturing me about maturity now? Really, tell me more.”

“I'll educate you good,” Axel drawled, perhaps mimicking a preacher. “Make you a right proper man.”

Roxas was somewhere between blushing and slamming his face into his palm. “Don't even say -...”

Axel just snickered, and made a victorious noise to follow it up when he successfully pulled of a combo, skewering the face of one of his enemies and whirling the sword around to slam the now-decapitated head into another baddie. Roxas grinned, and was abruptly struck by the realization that Sora was _home_ , perfectly capable of intruding on the two of them, and could potentially catch them in some sort of...suggestive position, if things went in that direction, which they wouldn't even though just a _position_ didn't mean anything in particular.

Like, friends wrestled or wound up wrapped around each other sometimes. They could be caught with Roxas's legs wrapped around Axel's head, fist in his hair -

Wait, what was he thinking about? Positions. Repositioning himself, to take some of the new pressure his khakis were putting on him.

“I'm getting this,” Axel almost purred when he cleared the first stage of the game, and Roxas needed to take a moment to respond.

“Yeah, don't get cocky.”

“Cocky is my way of life,” he muttered, pressing the button to go on to Stage Two. Roxas rolled his eyes, but couldn't help letting them rove in the process.

Axel took the silence as disapproval. “You knew that about me,” he reminded him, and then immediately took damage upon re-entering play. “Motherfucker -”

“Told you.” The spell broke and Roxas looked back at the screen, shaking off the sexual thoughts and attempting to return to his homework. Axel scowled at the fictional enemies, having a bit of difficulty getting back into the rhythm of the game.

Roxas actually managed to answer a couple of questions before Axel very rudely decided to draw attention to his legs and ass by shifting onto his stomach, stretching out.

Then he had the audacity to absentmindedly lick his lips in concentration, like a _jerk_.

After a moment, Axel felt eyes on him and glanced at Roxas. “What?”

“Nothing,” Roxas managed not to answer too quickly, and tried to sound teasing. “You just look ridiculously focused.”

“There's nothing ridiculous about my focus. It's serious business.”

“It's not... Brain surgery, or anything,” Roxas countered weakly.

“It could be,” Axel looked back at the monitor. “Y'know, in a way. Pretty sure I just splattered _that_ guy's brains everywhere.”

“Remind me never to be around you if I'm sick.”

“Aw, c'mon,” Axel pulled off the brain-splattering combo again. “I make a great nurse.”

Roxas just raised an eyebrow, moving to splay out on the bed with his book in front of him. The image of Axel in a cheap 'sexy nurse' Halloween costume happened to be in both of their heads, with varying degrees of appreciation. It was a little token for Roxas's tastes, while Axel mused he could probably rock one of those.

“What? My bedside manner is top-notch,” Axel's eyes flickered Roxas's way again. “I can be sympathetic like nobody's business.”

“Huh. I wonder how I never noticed. Behind you.”

Axel barely registered the nod to the monitor in time, and ran through his attacker by the skin of his teeth. “ _Suck it_ , yes...”

“Really?” Roxas laughed.

“Shut up. When the fuck do I get more health?”

“When you clear the screen and move on. It's about survival.”

“And when do I get into character customization so I can put this dude in skimpy armor and watch blades deflect off his junk?”

Roxas rolled his eyes. “You'll get there.”

“Oh, good. Can't stand a game with no fan service.”

“Bizarre...”

Axel grinned at him, and earned another light shove.

“Abuser.”

“Yeah, sure,” Roxas snorted, leaning into Axel a bit without thinking much of it. For a surprising amount of time, the contact went unremarked upon and unnoticed, the two of them perfectly comfortable like that.

Right up until Axel realized he was _too_ comfortable like this and wanted to touch him, and then died while he was distracted.

“Block, moron,” Roxas glanced up from his homework, shaking his head.

“Yeah.”

Axel sounded like his thoughts were miles away, but Roxas didn't notice. He was a little more caught up in how warm Axel was.

They were close enough to kiss, if they wanted to, Axel noticed. Roxas did, too, and pulled back a little.

Of course, now that he'd thought of it, Roxas found himself vividly recalling what kissing Axel was _like_. It wasn't conducive to resuming intellectual pursuits.

In order to regain some sense of platonic normalcy, Axel restarted the game. “I think I regret skipping the tutorial.”

Roxas latched to that. “I can take over 'til we get some good upgrades. I've played it a bunch of times.”

“Sure,” Axel passed over the controller, rolling onto his side to allow Roxas to take up some more room as he sat up.

He didn't even watch as Roxas started to speed through the first stage, mind back where he'd been very determined not to let it go.

Kissing Roxas wouldn't be weird if they were just...dating. If they had an agreement much like the one they had before, where they could hang out and have sex and move between the two things as naturally as breathing; they'd just about reached that stage, before, even if there _had_ still been kind of a sexual charge to literally every conversation they had.

All Axel needed was some fidelity along with that, and things would have been fine. _Why_ was that so beyond him? It couldn't just be because of what he'd said about not having feelings for Axel... Roxas had made himself expressly clear on that front, that Axel was no different from anyone else. That still stung to think about, but time had brought the meaning to light (maybe, somewhat). Roxas just didn't like anyone that way. That was fine.

Which meant that sex was sex, friendship was friendship, but dating was an obligation to be in love? What did that make _love_ , just a total lack of freedom?

Oh god, maybe Axel wasn't actually that good in bed. Maybe Roxas was so determined to keep sleeping around because Axel hadn't been satisfying him.

… Ha, no, yeah right.

At least his musings had doused his lustier thoughts. Likewise, taking off heads had distracted Roxas pretty well and the blush had faded from his cheeks.

“Learning anything?” Roxas progressed to the second stage, pulling off combos effortlessly without even having to look right at the screen.

Axel had forgotten to watch. “... Not remotely.”

At least he wasn't lying. He hadn't learned anything about the game, and hadn't figured out the mystery that was Roxas, either.

“You're hopeless,” Roxas grinned.

“But also self-aware enough not to argue that. In addition, I'm devilishly handsome.”

“Like that'll save you.”

“I'm also charming.”

Roxas started to laugh.

“Come on, I'm a _little_ charming,” Axel made a stab at sounding wounded, but it didn't really come across.

“I think I remember you holding a door open once.”

“See? Try not to swoon thinking about it, you're busy killing people.”

“I'll give my best effort,” he snorted, pulling off another attack that severed the limbs of every hostile around him.

“Shit, how'd you do that one?” Axel whistled.

“Easy,” Roxas leaned to show him on the controller, but snapped back up to attention when a dozen enemies dropped from nowhere and hurriedly said, “But I can't show you right now.”

“If you loved me, you'd show me anyway.”

“Then I guess I'm lucky I don't.”

“Ouch,” Axel commented, wondering what possessed him to say something that stupid to begin with. That sore spot was way too tender and exposed.

“I hate this guy,” Roxas complained, having encountered the boss among the mass of one-hit enemies.

“He _clearly_ hates you too.” Just shake it off.

“Please. The repeated stabbings are clearly a sign of affection,” Roxas argued.

“I think you should break it off with him, this isn't healthy.”

“You just don't know him like I -” Roxas broke off with a growl as his character's health bar flickered and was reduced by almost a quarter, being impaled through the chest in what was obviously the equivalent in-game of a flesh wound. “Never mind, fuck this guy...”

Axel opted not to say anything to break his concentration, Roxas having become almost scary-brutal in his aggressive button-pushing. On the offensive, he battered down the level's boss until he finished the battle with a triumphant hiss of, “ _Yes_.”

“Never have you been more rugged and manly,” Axel patted his thigh once. Roxas's eyes were still a little narrow, glancing down at his hand and back up at Axel.

“I was going more for vicious and bloodthirsty, but...”

“Go for rugged, it's more attractive.”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

“Trust me, I dated a 'vicious and bloodthirsty' for a bit,” Axel's hand retreated. “Gets old faster than you'd think.”

“Oh yeah?” Roxas paused the game momentarily, raising an eyebrow. “How far does 'bloodthirsty' extend?”

“I think he might've been feral.”

Roxas cringed a little, unpausing the game and moving on to Stage Three, waiting for it to load. “Is that what ended it?”

“Nah, it was mostly th-” Axel cut himself off suddenly, as though it'd occurred to him that what he was about to say was somehow off-limits. When he went on, it was with a forced sort of indifference. “The, uh, other guy he started seeing behind my back.”

Roxas's eyebrows raised. “Oh,” he replied cleverly. “Okay.”

“... But the psycho thing _was_ a factor,” Axel backtracked.

“Sounds it,” Roxas shifted a little. “You seriously have trouble picking guys.”

“Seems like,” Axel snorted, and the mutual awareness that Roxas had been talking about himself actually served to lighten the mood again.

“All the stages after this are pretty much the same,” Roxas started on the now-loaded level, but with a formulaic degree of boredom. “Any other brilliant ideas for stuff to do? I still have time before I have to be anywhere.”

“Not particularly. The kids might've cleared out of the ice cream place by now?”

Roxas grinned. “Twist my arm, why don't you?”

“You're buying your own this time, though, I can't support your habit.”

Roxas shut off the game, not caring to save, and slid off the bed. “You started me on it.”

“I can't be held responsible,” Axel protested, going to the bedroom door, but Roxas detoured to grab his wallet. “... You're bringing your entire wallet? How much are you planning on _buying?_ ”

“How much do you think they have around?” Roxas sounded utterly serious.

“... You _should_ leave some for other people. Or, me, at least.”

“If I buy it all, then I can decide how much gets given out to you.”

“Are you offering to be my ice cream sugar daddy?”

“Exactly.” Roxas closed his bedroom door behind them.

“Kinky.”

“It's not actually an offer. You don't get a choice.”

Axel stared after him, following him downstairs. “This is how Dr. Frankenstein felt,” he marveled, as though in horror.

“What? Because I'm your creation?”

“Created a monster, yeah.”

“Great, then the angry mob will blame you.”

“At least I get to go down the way I've always wanted to. I hoped torches would be involved.”

“If the pitchforks don't get you, first.”

They discussed the merits of being immolated versus being stabbed to death, on their way out of the house and back to the ice cream parlor, until the conversation inevitably strayed to more ridiculous topics with complete ease and little renewed awkwardness between them.

As far as a trial run went, it definitely wasn't the worst platonic-not-date for either of them. It had potential to end badly when Roxas did, indeed, try to buy the entire stock of sea salt ice cream, and when Axel unthinkingly cleaned a drip off his index finger by practically fellating it, but those were just bumps an otherwise pleasant ride.

It wasn't until they split and Axel was on his way back home that it occurred to him that it was awfully late in the day for Roxas to have a work shift, and that he hadn't been dressed for it. It was probable... _Really_ probable...that Roxas had arranged to meet with someone else. Either a friend, or a...

Well, not friend. Roxas had said that, too, that he wasn't often friends with the guys he fucked.

Still, Axel thought determinedly, this friendship thing could work. He knew what he'd been agreeing to when sex had been removed from their equation.

As long as he didn't ask about any of the guys Roxas planned on hooking up with, this was do-able.

… And as long as Saix was never brought up again.

In fact... Maybe the trouble with their relationship, friendship, what-have-you... Maybe it was that Axel had been trying to get answers with taboo questions. They hit upon disastrous topics, and things went downhill from there unless someone saved the situation with humor or deflection.

That whole 'ownership' hang-up still definitely rang of something shady. Or, at least something with a story behind it.

He really did want to _know_... Not even for the sake of pursuing Roxas romantically, that felt too manipulative even for _Axel's_ more underhanded tastes. He just needed to understand for the sake of understanding.

After all, he concluded, a best friend was someone you knew even better than you knew yourself.


	12. Make-up and Kiss

As Sora understood it, rehab was _basically_ a live-in hospital, with maybe a few extra security measures. He thought he might have seen this routine on prison shows, where he had to turn out his pockets and undergo a mild bit of searching before the security desk cleared him and gave him a nametag to write on.

Once they'd concluded that he wasn't smuggling drugs or alcohol into anyone, Sora was allowed through to the reception desk, and he adapted his view of rehab accordingly. The clinic was the kept offspring of a hospital and a rec center, with prison being the cool aunt who'd imparted some very serious life lessons during childhood. It was bright, open, and almost friendly in atmosphere, if you could ignore the fact that the windows were locked shut and there were security measures at almost every door.

It was kind of novel to get to see the place, at last. This wasn't the first time Sora had tried to visit Riku – security had actually known him on-sight, and he'd had to reassure him that this time he was _supposed_ to be here. His name had been added to some list, after Riku's therapist had called him and asked if he'd be willing to come to Family Therapy in place of Riku's parents.

In his poorly-restrained rejoicing, he'd neglected to ask why. It had been _weeks_ , and Sora was going to get to see Riku. The details didn't seem important.

Weaving past a little group of visiting family members, Sora approached the glassed-in reception desk while still struggling to join the magnetic pieces inside his shirt and out. The woman behind the desk was very determinedly trying to ignore the clearly audible argument between two people mere feet from her, signing in a visitor as was her job to do.

Close enough to catch the gist of what was going on, Sora all but froze like a deer in headlights, lifting his gaze up to the formidable woman standing only a few feet away.

“This situation verges on embarrassing, so I will make myself entirely clear,” her tone was icy and soft, not a mite above her regular speaking tone. She never needed to shout to command attention or intimidate. Riku's mother made Sora feel the size of a five-year-old again, and he wasn't even on the receiving end of her ire.

“If my son refuses to see me, it is at the recommendation of your staff. To me, this displays dangerous ineptitude and impertinence.”

“Ma'am -” the squat nurse attempted to get a word in, ruddy-faced and trying to be pacifying.

“This is not a charity, nor is it a prison,” Mrs. Misaki cut her off. “You believe you do fine work, and perhaps you may continue to do so, assuming this clinic survives defamation. If nothing else, I see no reason not to retract my payments and give Riku the help he needs at home.”

The nurse swelled up. “Ma'am, this isn't only about a supportive environment, he's on a very carefully controlled medication -”

Once again, she was interrupted with the most delicate tone. “I will be looking into our options. In the meantime, I expect frequent updates on my son and the highest quality of care given to him... And I _will_ be discussing this with Riku.”

Sora's ability to breathe like a grown-up was starting to return to him, and confidence came with it. The confirmation that Mrs. Misaki was being _denied_ a family day visit was satisfying in perhaps not the kindest way, but definitely the most heartening.

“Sora Hikari,” he cheerfully tapped his nametag as he approached the receptionist. “Visiting Riku Misaki.”

The harried woman – Fauna, according to her little placard – smiled warmly at him, turning the sign-in sheet towards his way. “Of course, just write in your information here...”

Mrs. Misaki had turned away from the nurse, long coat sweeping behind her, and she regarded Sora with thin, arched eyebrows. Softly, she commented, “Ah. Well, this _is_ a surprise.”

Scribbling his name under 'Family' in large, rounded handwriting, Sora managed not to shrink and tried to sound friendly rather than smug. “I was surprised, too, when they called me yesterday.”

That wasn't a lie, but this was putting him past 'surprise' to a distinct sense of victory. Sora had done enough competing in his life to know how not to act like a poor winner when he came in first. Especially when the runner-up was probably capable of bringing down some serious misery on him and everyone he loved.

“Indeed. Shocking, that a reputable facility would entrust their patient's support to a boy, instead of his own mother. Even stranger that my son is so...enamored with your company.” Her piercing eyes never left Sora, and for all her composure, he felt like she would've breathed fire if she could.

He actually wasn't _totally_ convinced she couldn't. When he was a kid, his imagination had made some very logical leaps and concluded that Riku's mom was a dragon in disguise. He'd been kind of terrified.

Now that he was older and wiser, she only _probably_ wasn't a dragon, and he was capable of smiling in front of her for the first time in memory. “I don't think so. I think having your friends around is the best help there is.” Still as lightly as he could muster, he couldn't help adding, “I guess Riku thinks so, too.” He turned the sign-in sheet around, giving it back to Fauna.

A _tiny_ bit of gloating never hurt-

“'Friends', you say.”

Sora dropped the pen, but he'd been handing it back so it looked intentional, if a little rude. He otherwise ignored a twist of dread, knowing for sure there was no way she could _know_ anything. Riku wouldn't have breathed a word of their conversation in the hospital, or the kiss.

Dark eyes had narrowed in suspicion, her inklings more about Sora than her son, but so long as he kept cool... He could escape before she ate him alive.

“Yep,” he waved to her when the electronic lock on the nearby doors turned green to let him through, and he sidled past quickly. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Misaki.”

She didn't return the sentiment, sweeping away without another word. Sora beamed all the way through the doors, and promptly buckled once he was safely behind them.

Seriously. There wasn't a single person _ever_ that scared him more. He let out a big breath, tweaked his nametag, and jaunted down the wide, white hallway.

There were signs pointing the way to the rec room, dining room, patient rooms. Sora faltered, looking down the row for an indication of where the counseling office he was supposed to meet Riku in was – he'd kind of expected more direction than this.

If he got totally lost, at least there looked to be a dozen or so signs pointing him to the nurse's station. They could probably tell him where to go. Taking off at the sort of quick walk that would just escape correction by a hall monitor, Sora followed the arrows and his intuition, rounding a corner in time to see a middle-aged woman escorting a very familiar young man.

Riku was pale, tired, and sick more days than not, but all of that was outshined by his perfection for just _being_ there. He paused at the door, spotting Sora at the end of the hall.

“Sora -”

“Riku!”

Good behavior was abandoned and could eat his dust. Sora sprinted forward, only stopping just short of tackling Riku, but he bridged that gap himself and wrapped Sora in the tightest hug he was capable of.

Riku's therapist cleared her throat, not unkindly. “Come along inside, we don't want to waste time. You'll have some time to talk after Riku's session.”

“Right...” Riku was reluctant to let go, and Sora squeezed him for as long as he could get away with before they went inside. One of Riku's hands remained on his arm, the two of them needing the contact – they'd never been apart for so long in their lives, and Riku was here, Sora was _here_.

Sora took one of the empty chairs, grinning and feeling reassured...but for Riku, the moment had passed. Seeing Sora had – for a few wonderful seconds - taken his mind off the anxiety that had been churning at him for hours, and now the reality of what they were about to do was inescapable. He'd at least had one thing taken off his mind, the promise that he wouldn't have to see his parents today doing much for his morale.

But he couldn't be sure Sora's forgiveness would survive the next hour.

The counselor, an older woman with a round, stern sort of face, sat down and removed her pen from where it was attached to her clipboard. “So, Sora. Riku's told me a lot about you, I'm glad you could make it today. You can call me Flora, I'm assigned as Riku's social worker as long as he's an in-patient. Do you have any questions about how this works, to start?”

Sora blinked, surprised both that Riku's counselor knew anything about him, and to be called on right away. “Uh, yeah... Is Riku's mom not going to come here anymore?”

“We're all discussing it, and figuring out what the best thing for Riku's recovery is,” she arranged her clipboard in her lap.

“Oh,” Sora nodded. That boosted this place in his esteem, even more. “Okay. That's all I wanted to ask.”

“Alright. Then, to start with, I think we should go over some of the things we've talked about before, Riku.”

“Uh -” Just diving right into it felt _uncomfortable_. “I don't really know what...”

“We could begin with the feelings you were having that made you think you needed an escape,” she prompted. Sora glanced at Riku, not entirely prepared to face this topic again. He'd been so focused on _seeing_ him that he'd kind of forgotten what he'd signed himself up for.

Riku was avoiding looking his way. Sora grabbed his knees and steeled himself, like he was bracing for impact.

“... Alright,” Riku leaned forward against his elbows, throat feeling a little dry. “... I guess it started just before high school.”

When he hesitated, he was coaxed to a starting point. “Do you recall what you told me, about starting your secondary education?”

“Yeah.” Riku didn't think anything could be more uncomfortable than talking about this. “My parents had always been proud of my accomplishments when I was younger, and when I graduated they told me it'd take more than good grades from now on. That if I was ever gonna be somebody worth anything, I'd have to be extraordinary. And, starting high school... It was the first year I didn't have my friends with me.

“I guess I got kind of a reputation. I didn't try to make friends, and I was busy being at the top of every class. If I _wasn't_...” Riku hesitated. “I was just. Alone. I was never...not doing something. Working on being the best. Everyone at school thought I was a jerk, so they kept their distance, and I didn't have time for my friends on weekends. Or, they wouldn't have time for me. And the whole time, my mother was _constantly_ saying that they'd moved on, made new friends, that they didn't want me around anymore so I should just work on being _better_ -... It...”

Sora shifted uneasily in his chair. He remembered that year without Riku, but his version of it involved countless memories of spending time with friends or going on school trips, and simply lamenting Riku's absence. With a sickening drop in his stomach, Sora recalled how often he had demanded his help with schoolwork for hours at a time, citing the fact that Riku's was always done early. That the times they _did_ see each other, it was because he'd forced Riku out of the house when he was supposed to be working.

The fact that Riku had been _alone_ had never crossed his mind. Sora had been aware of his reputation, but he'd never shown a sign of being bothered by it. Never seemed strained by being the best.

“There was a lot of pressure,” the counselor supplied.

Riku thought that was too simple a way to put it, but couldn't convey it any better. “...Yeah.”

“And that didn't get better over time.”

He almost snorted. “... No. When I did better, they moved me up to harder classes. Gifted programs. And if my grades slipped, they'd freak out, start talking about my future, and what they'd have to do to make sure I had a career. Or how adopting me was a mistake and they rushed into it... They'd fight with each other, talk about how disappointed they were with their lives. Because of each other, because of me. After a while... I just...” Riku paused for breath. “... I spent a lot of time at Sora's once we were both in high school, but I couldn't _live_ there. And I had to stay on top of things, but I couldn't concentrate at home. Even if they weren't fighting or nagging me, I felt... trapped. I guess. So I started looking for ways to relax.”

Sora didn't notice that one of his hands had for some time been crushing the other, in his lap. He had to be the stupidest – or, selfish beyond compare, not to have known, not to have _suspected_ that things were so bad. All those times he'd wondered about Riku's home life but didn't ask, or the times he'd let himself be appeased with a single dismissal...

It was all coming back to feeling like a little kid. Blundering through life, not smart enough to pick up on anything outside his little bubble. If he had grown up and paid attention, it probably would have been obvious. It sure looked that way from this side of things.

“I started with the small stuff.” Riku found that the more he talked, the easier it was to just recite the facts like a story, as though Sora wasn't there at all. If he didn't look at him, Riku could pretend he still didn't know. “Marijuana was too hard to manage without getting caught, I almost was once and never bothered again – smoke wouldn't clear... And then I found a guy. A dealer. He started me on heroin...”

His eyes found a spot on the floor, some kind of stain, and fixed there.

“... And I felt...a lot more like _me_ when I was high, than when I wasn't. But I was only gonna do it once. I treated it like a vacation. I didn't touch it again for months, until after...” Riku ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “My dad started asking why I never had any girlfriends. People'd think I was... And if things fell through, if I had to work for my father and help run his company, I'd be in the public eye. He said the media wouldn't be kind to a -”

He stopped. Sora _was_ here, and he didn't want to use that word in front of him. He didn't want to use at all, not even in quotation.

Sora's eyes stung. Mrs. Misaki's parting words made more sense, now, and he anxiously wondered if he should have done something more to derail her suspicions.

God, this was _all his fault._ He'd been such a miserable friend.

“And at that point, what did you think about your sexuality?”

“I _didn't_ ,” Riku tried not to sound vexed. “I mean, I'd never thought about it. I...still don't know. Anyway, I started dating – sort of, I mean.” Unconsciously, he reddened. “I started sleeping with a lot of girls. That got even easier to do in university, but, not really the point.”

It was a testament to how distraught Sora was about everything else that he wasn't even bothered by the mention of Riku having sex with girls. Anyway, that at least wasn't new information.

“I started and it didn't feel right so I freaked out, maybe I _am_ gay, and then I started using. It was just a thing I did, whenever everything got to be too much,” Riku swallowed. “It didn't feel like an addiction.”

“Usually, people just think it's how they cope, and that it's under control,” the counselor nodded. “Was there a time you realized that you weren't as in control as you thought?”

“... Yeah.” Riku thought of Sora's room, of Roxas. “And it's the reason I'm here.”

There was a loud crack as one of Sora's knuckles finally gave way to the abuse he was putting his hand through. They both jumped, Riku looking at him sharply.

“Sorry...!”

“No-...” Riku was still startled, gut turning over. “Are you okay?”

“Sora?” Flora was jotting something down, tone gentle. “What are your feelings about this, so far?”

His mouth remained hanging open for a couple seconds, struggling not to throw himself at Riku and apologize for everything. “I... I missed a lot of things I should've known about...”

“I didn't tell you -” Riku began, sounding torn up, but the counselor held up a silencing hand.

“We're going to let Sora talk for a minute and say everything he needs to.”

Riku went quiet and nodded, feeling sick with guilt.

Sora swallowed hard, and let up on his hand. “I always knew Riku's parents were sort of... strict. My whole life, I barely ever went to his house, but I didn't think anything like-... It's just always sort of seemed like Riku's naturally good at everything, without even trying. Most of the time I was jealous of that, and trying to beat him at stuff...”

Riku almost winced, wanting to correct him, inform his social worker that _Sora_ was the naturally talented one. He gripped his hair with one hand.

“I knew he didn't want to be at home, too, but I thought it was, like, because he'd be lonely or because he fought with his parents...” Sora spoke slowly, every realization feeling like a heavy weight on him. “I think I asked once... But, actually, I'm not sure I ever did.”

He was the one who couldn't look up, now. He'd failed Riku, he just knew it.

“I kinda knew about all of the stuff that must have been really hard, but it seemed like none of it bothered Riku. Like he's always been this ridiculously strong person who never let anything get to him.” Sora shrank, quieter. “Now I think I was just being dumb...”

With another stab to his gut, he wondered if he'd ignored any hint of darkness on purpose. Building Riku up in his mind was just easier than acknowledging how hard it must have been to maintain his grades, his prowess in sports, and his popularity with girls all at once. If Riku was just _born_ smarter, then there was no point in Sora working _too_ hard at school. If he lost in anything, it could hardly be called a defeat when his opponent was practically superhuman, which meant coming in second made Sora still the best among normal people, right?

Was this all because he was too proud to lose?

Riku couldn't help himself. “I wanted you to think of me that way,” he sat up a little, and he imagined pulling Sora upright and shaking him by the shoulders, longing to tell off whatever cruel part of his brain had him convinced this was _in any way_ his responsibility. “You're not dumb. I thought-... No one's opinion matters to me like yours does. So, if _you_ thought I was strong, maybe I really was.”

Sora stared at the floor, fingers tight around the sides of the chair.

“But I wasn't,” Riku concluded bitterly. “I was just lying to you.”

“I never asked anything,” Sora sounded wretched. “I was so focused on beating you, thinking we were too tough to need help or talk about that stuff... But I'm supposed to be your best friend, and you couldn't even-... I didn't-...”

“This isn't about blame,” Flora gently interjected. “I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Riku, the first session we had together. Until an addict _knows_ a behavior is destructive, there's no way to help him. Sora, you didn't know Riku needed help. Riku didn't know, either. You just tried out a coping strategy that became unhealthy, and that isn't the fault of anyone in this room.”

Silently, not sure which one of them he was even trying to console, Riku reached for Sora's hand. He took it weakly, still unable to look at Riku, but at least lifting his head to the social worker. Riku glanced away, abashed, and started to retract his hand.

Sora immediately held tighter.

“Could you talk about what this has been like for you, Sora? If you're comfortable with that.”

“... I don't know how to-... I mean, I've been worried. When I found Riku, I thought-...” The image of him on the couch, seemingly _dying_ , was back on Sora's mind and making his throat feel tight. “He just got so sick, and I had no idea why...”

Riku slouched in his chair. Unknowingly, he'd become more on-level with Sora's height.

“How did you feel when you found out about the heroin?”

For the first time in weeks, Sora had to try to think back to his wait in the hospital, rather than avoid it. It was almost harder to call it back to his mind than it had been to push it out. The hours before Riku had come to felt like more dream than memory. A really, _really_ bad dream.

“I thought it wasn't true...” he recalled slowly, “Until Riku told me, I didn't believe it. Then, I guess I couldn't understand... Like it didn't fit in all my memories and everything I knew about Riku...”

Riku kept his head down, and his hand in Sora's. His grip had become vice-like.

“And after the shock...” Flora prompted.

“I don't know... A lot of things...” Sora had underestimated how tricky this was. He wasn't used to articulating his feelings to this degree. Everything his rushed brain could produce felt lacking, like this was a test he hadn't studied for, or homework he hadn't done, but had been called on to write the answers on the board. “Still worried a lot. Sometimes I was angry, or scared there was more stuff going on I didn't know about. Sometimes I was happy too, though, because of – um. But mostly I just miss him all the time.”

He wasn't sure if it was okay talk about what happened in the hospital. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to share that private moment with someone brandishing a clipboard.

“You know, everything said to me is kept confidential,” she leaned forward a little. “Why happy?”

“It's fine, she knows,” Riku supplied quietly. Sora went pink.

“... Because, even though all this bad stuff happened, Riku said he might, you know, like me...” It sounded ten times more childish to his own ears, horribly embarrassed to admit that to an adult stranger. She showed no kind of reaction, good or bad.

At least she hadn't written anything on her clipboard.

“Sounds to me like you care a lot more about Riku than any mistakes he might've made,” she observed, perhaps a little pointedly. Riku sank lower, ducking his head more. He'd disappear under the desk before long.

Flushing even darker, Sora nodded. “I want him-...” he paused, and finally looked at Riku. “I mean, I want you to get better. And if I can start to make up for being a lousy friend by helping, I want that, too...”

He wished Sora would never say that about himself again. Heavy under the unloaded emotional baggage, Riku muttered, “You're the best friend anyone could ever have.”

“Luckily, we're all working hard to help you get better,” the counselor was tilting her head, wordlessly getting him to bring his own up. “But the one with the most work to do...”

“Is me,” he finished. “Yeah. I know.”

His thumb ran over the back of Sora's hand, drawing the tiniest smile out of him.

“I can do it. And I will.”

From there, there wasn't a whole lot left to discuss, and it had taken longer than Sora would have expected to even get through that. They talked about things Riku was going to try to do to cope instead of use, the reasons Sora wanted him to get better and the reasons Riku wanted that, too.

If Sora had had to go straight home after the session concluded, he probably would have dissolved into tears and been a mess for the rest of the day. Mercifully, they confirmed that Sora was allowed to stay until visiting hours ended, and they could spend some pseudo-alone time together so long as the door to Riku's private room remained open.

Sora was maybe a little more disappointed than he thought he should be that they would be semi-monitored. It wasn't that he _expected_ anything to happen that would be considered inappropriate, but...

“Someone will be here very soon for your next dose,” the social worker escorted them to Riku's room, which was actually quite nice, if a little plain. It wasn't much unlike a private hospital room, with a bit more of a personal touch. There was a tiny dresser for Riku to keep clothes in, a television bolted to the ceiling in the corner of the room. Embarrassingly, the bathroom had no door, which felt like a breach of some kind until Riku explained that it _had_ to be open to ensure no one was snorting or injecting in privacy.

“I know. Thanks.”

Compulsively, Sora thanked her as well, then glanced around for somewhere to sit. They were left in peace, door wide open, and Riku went to sit on the edge of the bed.

“... I'm sorry.”

Riku didn't know if Sora would even know what he was apologizing for. Honestly, he didn't know, either. That his visit had been so emotionally draining for them both, that they were being offhandedly watched, or that Riku was even here to begin with.

Pulling a chair up to the bed, Sora sat down and observed rather than respond. “... I didn't know they gave you so much medication...”

“It's to help the withdrawal. It's...” he hesitated over the word. “Buprenorphine. Makes the cravings less, and they monitor it really closely... They'll start tapering it off when I'm past the worst of it. There are some other medications for the other symptoms... I'd be a wreck without them.”

Sora promptly forgot the name of the medication he'd never heard of. He left it to the doctors to know the right thing for a recovering heroin addict. “That's good... I'm glad you're not doing this alone.”

Riku was quiet for a moment. “They've been great. Really understanding. They said that my parents will just be a source of stress, make the healing process harder to go through. They figured out that the best thing for me is you. Having you be part of my recovery.”

Starting to smile, Sora tried to meet his eyes. “... What d'you think?”

“... I kind of think you're _all_ I need,” Riku glanced up, and almost managed to smile back. “But I won't say no to the medication.”

The atmosphere changed, Sora feeling almost like he was glowing to hear him say that. “Good. 'Cause you're not going to get rid of me.”

“Wouldn't if I could,” Riku could have collapsed in his relief. Relief, and vertigo, because the dizzy spells were still pretty frequent no matter _what_ he was prescribed.

Speak of the devil – which he hadn't spoken of, and at the moment huffy, oft-disapproving Nurse Merryweather was an angel of mercy in his esteem – the sound of the squat nurse wheeling in her little cart circumvented further conversation. She held out a Styrofoam glass of water to Riku first, followed by a little paper cup with a pill in it.

He swigged the water down to chase the medication and thanked her, but she was already on her way.

Sora felt lighter than he had before, but for the first time since leaving the hospital, he started to see Riku as _sick_. The shadows under his eyes stood out starkly against his pallid face, his lips were dry... And, not that it was any less beautiful, Riku's hair had a bit less sheen to it.

“... Anyway...” Riku slipped his feet out of his shoes and brought his legs up onto the bed. Sora wondered if he could do the same, or if it'd be weird.

“... Kairi misses you, too,” Sora said abruptly. Any topic had to be better than repeating anything either of them had talked about in the counseling office. “She said she wishes she could see you, but to say hi for her anyway.”

He hadn't called Kairi, yet. He felt like a coward for it. “Is she also furious?” Riku asked like he knew the answer, eyes back on the floor.

“No! She's just...surprised. Like everyone is...”

“I wouldn't blame her if she's mad. I lied to her, too...” he hesitated. “How many people know?”

“Just her and Namine. And my family, so maybe Terra and Aqua know by now... Not sure if Ven would say.” Sora bit his lip. “And... I don't know what they told people at your school...”

“I've had to drop the semester. There's no hope of getting my tuition back, my mother told me all about it that last time she was here.”

Sora's lip was being chewed like a piece of the world's worst gum. “Well... I've got some of your textbooks at home, and I'm keeping them safe if-... If you need them again...”

“I don't know if I will,” Riku rested his elbows against his knees, surprising himself by being kind of _over_ it. “If I go back to school... I don't know, I wasn't happy learning the stuff they _wanted_ me to learn. Maybe this is a chance to figure something else out. Walk my own path for a while.”

Sora's heart swelled. “... I think that's a really good idea.”

“They'll never support me, though,” Riku frowned, trying not to get too attached to the idea, no matter how attractive. “I can kiss my life goodbye, if I try it... No home, no car, no money to fall back on.”

“... But you can't just go back to everything you were doing before,” Sora protested, distress puncturing his sudden hopefulness prematurely.

“I know,” Riku sighed heavily. “... I don't know what the answer is. If I could get a job, find a place to go... But before any of that, I need to get clean.”

As much as he didn't want to get ahead of himself, Riku still wanted to think about life after rehab. He could call it inspiration.

“I don't have a car or any money of my own...but you'll always have a place to stay with me.”

Riku stared. The offer had been made completely genuinely, Sora looking at him and simply providing him with a possible solution.

Suddenly it seemed impossible he could have ever thought he _didn't_ love Sora.

Unsure how to take Riku's silence, Sora just kept talking. “I mean, right now my room might be a bit small for both of us, but it's not like we haven't shared it before... and it's only for a few more months before I go to college. I always hoped we'd be roommates when we both moved out, and now we can be. ... I mean, if you want to.”

Opening his mouth to agree, of _course_ he'd agree, all he wanted to _do_ was live with Sora, reality kicked in and Riku ventured, “... What would your parents say?”

“It doesn't matter,” he shrugged. “You're my best friend and you need help. They've got to understand that.”

Sora's confidence was totally beyond him. How could he mean that with such certainty? How could Sora still not only accept him, but want to go so far to help?

Again, Riku started to agree, but the words got jumbled in his brain and instead he came out with, “I want to kiss you...so badly.”

Sora looked stunned, not sure what to say for a second except, “I-is that allowed?”

“I... I honestly don't know.” Riku wasn't just talking about the clinic's rules.

“Well...” Sora glanced out the open door; no one was paying them particular attention. “If someone comes by and says we can't, we can always just say sorry and not to do it next time.”

Riku sat up properly. “... So... Do you want to-?”

He nodded. “Just...there's one thing first.”

“Yeah...?” Anxiety prickled under affection and started to overtake it. Likewise, Sora needed a breath to steady himself.

“I know back there I said I was happy because you might like me, but it's not like-... You don't have to, for me to be happy,” he tried not to rush through it. “Before, I kinda wanted you to, but I didn't know how bad it could be for you, if-... Anyway, if you can't or you're not sure... You're my best friend first, and I'll always want that more than anything.”

Riku didn't want to answer too fast, but he reached out for him to indicate that Sora could come closer. “For my entire life,” he began carefully, “you've been the only person who ever made me happy.”

Slowly, but without hesitation, Sora got up from the chair to climb up onto the bed.

“Don't get me wrong... I love our friends. I love Kairi. But it's different with you,” Riku's hand dropped. “... I love you, I'm just not sure in what way yet.”

Sora inched closer, sitting on his knees. “I think I love you every way there is,” he told him softly.

Riku leaned forward and rested his forehead against Sora's, faintly hoarse. “You're too good for me, you know.”

“That's not it,” reaching for one of Riku's hands, Sora closed his eyes. “You just haven't had a chance to figure out how good you are.”

His hand was lightly squeezed, and then Riku lifted his head and tilted Sora's chin to give him a tentative kiss. Sora met it with similar caution, but warmth spread over him almost instantly.

This wasn't really like kissing a girl, Riku noted, and drifted one hand up to rest gently on the back of Sora's neck. This just felt somehow...more _right_. For his part, Sora felt like he could've been floating and he wouldn't have questioned it. He tilted his head to fit their lips better against each other, and Riku almost smiled into the kiss.

He wanted to go slow, figure out what about this could possibly be wrong. When nothing was, Riku let himself get bolder. In response, Sora inched closer on the bed, but the movement accidentally broke the contact. With a sheepish laugh and an apology, Sora recaptured it before Riku could tell him that he didn't at _all_ mind when it meant they were closer together.

Riku ran a hand idly down Sora's arm, the gesture tender in context. Sora hummed his approval and gradually parted his lips, and Riku deepened the kiss at his invitation.

“Mm...” Sora was more audible when the tip of a tongue that was _not_ his own skimmed past his lips. He wanted to do this forever, but he also kind of wanted to tackle Riku to the bed and cuddle as close as physically possible, maybe with their shirts off.

Maybe there was a trick to curbing that urge that Riku had mastered, with his much-more experience. Capably, Riku was exploring, wanting to figure out what Sora liked best.

Sora caught onto the front of the shirt that Riku was still definitely wearing because it was _way_ too soon for it to be gone. That was okay. Sora was starting to get an idea of what to do, and prompted Riku a little closer still with an almost-sigh of contentment.

The difference between kissing Sora and kissing anyone else clicked into place. Kissing Sora felt _warmer_.

And then the squeaky wheels of the drug cart squealed just outside the door as Nurse Merryweather bustled past. Riku broke them apart, preemptively sheepish, and Sora tried to look otherwise occupied while his traitorous cheeks heated up.

The nurse didn't even look into the room, busily tending to her other patients. Riku stifled a nervous laugh, and Sora grinned at him when it felt safe to look his way again.

“... That was almost embarrassing...”

“Heh. Yeah,” Sora rubbed the back of his head. “But it felt worth it to me.”

“... Agreed.” He'd kissed Sora, the world hadn't ended, and it had been sort of the most awesome thing Riku had ever done.

Although for some reason, something had only just occurred to him.

“Hey... Us aside, you never told me that you're...”

Sora looked at him blankly. “Huh?”

“That you're gay.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “You just thought of that now?”

Riku shrugged, reddening a little. “I've had a lot on my mind.”

Sora still looked entertained. “I'm not really sure what I am... I just know I like _you_ , and with Roxas and Ven, you know, I kind of figured it was genetic.”

Riku was strangely flattered. “Huh...”

“But since I didn't think you'd ever feel the same, I didn't think about it much,” Sora concluded. Riku considered him momentarily before kissing his cheek.

“Now that I do... I guess you don't really need to think about it, anyway.”

“It makes things simpler that way,” Sora snickered, pleased. Riku's next kiss went to his lips, but it was woefully brief. Riku drew back, putting his head on the pillow.

He'd gotten a shade paler, against all odds. Anxiously, Sora moved to let him lie down but didn't leave the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Kind of weak...” Riku exhaled. That had come at an unpleasant time. “Just hit me like a truck.”

“Is that normal? Should I get someone?”

“It's fine – that...happens, sometimes.” Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a moment to get the room to stop spinning. “Sorry... Should've warned you...”

“That's okay... Here,” Sora sat up, offering his lap. “They did say we can't lie down together, but this should be fine.”

For a second, Riku wondered if he should decline just because the position might feel kind of un-manly. That thought was shoved aside when he remembered that Sora wouldn't judge, or care, and he grinned as he moved over to rest his head against Sora's lap.

“Mm. Thanks...”

“No problem.” The position gave him the opportunity to stroke Riku's hair, so actually Sora was the _real_ winner here. “You can sleep or whatever, if you need to.”

“Seems like a waste to sleep... Just talk to me. About anything.”

“Sure.” Sora had no trouble coming up with topics, when he'd been saving up news and everyday anecdotes since the day he stopped speaking to Riku. There was only so much they could get through, over the phone. “I've had so much to do lately, with homework and university applications. Our house is like a beehive or something right now, with the three of us all working non-stop. I don't think my parents have had this much trouble with us being triplets since potty training.”

That, or the staggering expense of three sets of braces, all ordered within the first year of high school.

“Are you still applying to Hollow Bastion...?”

“I'm applying, but I'm not sure I'll go. No reason to move out if I stay local, you know?”

“I don't think you'd enjoy staying local that much, anyway. Where else have you applied?” Riku closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hair being stroked.

It was sort of refreshing, actually. His long hair had felt like an enemy more times than he could count over the past weeks. In his worst fits of withdrawal, every strand seemed to come with its own individual ache, and more than once touching it in such a state had made him physically sick. If every sharp edge wasn't under lock and key here, he'd have chopped it off ages ago just for some relief. But when Sora's hand glided over his hair... it soothed the hateful discomfort right out of it, like he was taming something feral to purr for him.

“A few places, but there's only one I'm really excited about. I know it's only got a tiny college, but I want to go back to the Islands if I can...”

Sora chatted, about courses and the Islands and everywhere his train of thought took him, and Riku managed not to let the lull of Sora's hand send him off to sleep. They didn't move from that position until five o'clock rolled around and family members were sent home, and Riku promised to get some rest.

He proceeded to call Sora from the phone at the nurse's station, and they didn't stop talking for another hour. This time, a two-sided conversation, about where they'd live on Destiny Islands if they could.

Riku was pretty sure he'd discovered his inspiration.


	13. Two Asexuals and a Roadmap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! We are officially off our not-really-a-hiatus. We wrote so many things in October, and if you haven't read those yet, you totally should. 'Tis not the season for spooky stories anymore, but we had a lot of fun with our Halloween fics, and we think they're pretty neat. There's a funny smutty one, a tragic smutty one, a funny disturbing one, and a straight-up disturbing one with sprinklings of fluff. What's not to love? If scary stories aren't your thing, we also put up our first ever canonverse fic. Six whole chapters of angsty teenagers in love.
> 
> Bear with us, we have more news. First of all, please draw your attention to the chapter counter and observe... we actually know when this fic is going to end. We're planned right up to the end and unless some unforseen circumstance robs us of hands, brains, or internet, we'll be putting out a chapter per week as scheduled right til we're done.
> 
> Last news: We have a tumblr! We have very creatively named it lanternjawedstudmuffin.tumblr.com . We would love it if you follow us and if you post mostly KH stuff, we will follow you in return. We will post new story information there, add extra bits, answer questions about our fics, pose questions for our followers to add input, and so on. We're still getting it up and running, but in the near future we'll also be adding some of Stud's art, our cosplay stuff, and everything our little fandom hearts desire. We are also hoping to do a fic/art giveaway once we hit a certain number of followers, AND we are participating in khsecretsanta.tumblr.com 's Secret Santa. Most of all, we want to make some friends within this fandom, we want to have discussions with y'all, and we want to make people suffer, but be... happy about it. So please follow us there, ask us stuff if you want, and feel free to answer some of the questions we've already posted.
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains neeeerrrds.

As always, Lexaeus arrived on campus early for a plain black tea before going to meet with his very exclusive study group.

The exclusivity was down to requirements; to qualify, one had to be studious, organized, dedicated, scientifically-minded, a consistent member of the Dean's List, an early riser, and – most importantly – likable to the prior members.

So it was just the two of them, Zexion and himself, meeting up in the library every morning before classes. Lexaeus was finishing his tea at five minutes to eight, and arriving at the library promptly at eight o'clock in the morning and not a second earlier. Zexion's habits insisted he be ten minutes early for everything, minimum, and arriving any earlier would only inspire him to show up to even more of a wait. Out of consideration, Lexaeus would surely have started compensating, and they would eventually inadvertently push their meeting time to seven, or six, and that was simply ludicrous. Even a scholar needed to sleep.

As was perfectly routine, Lexaeus found him patiently waiting with an open book, several texts and binders neatly stacked at his side. He removed his own hilariously bulky laptop bag from his shoulder, giving Zexion a nod as he sat across from him.

“Good morning,” Zexion's voice was soft and toneless. Lexaeus abstained from a verbal greeting, instead nodding again as he began removing books.

“I see you've set up,” he noted instead, voice kept low. “Do you have an agenda in mind today?”

One visible eye slanted towards the thin, brand new project binder atop the pile. “Actually, I have an interest project I would appreciate your insight on...”

With a noise that translated to 'Go on, Zexion, I hang on your every word', Lexaeus began stacking his own books.

“It's of a rather... personal nature.”

Zexion took the binder from his pile, and Lexaeus nodded in prompting.

“As you know, my relationship with Demyx has been... developing for some time.”

“Yes.” It was in Lexaeus's nature to speculate, but to form theories without the entirety of the question yet posited was a little silly.

Zexion cleared his throat. “You also know where I stand on intimacy with other people...”

“Yes.” His own personal stance was much reflective of that; part of their camaraderie was based upon finding they shared various views. They did not agree on everything, of course, for what sort of intellectual would choose company who'd never challenge them? There was no reason friendship couldn't be intellectually advantageous.

On this topic, though, physical intimacy struck Lexaeus as needlessly messy and an unproductive waste of time, and Zexion had agreed. They'd had that discussion very near the beginning of their working relationship, concerned that a lover might detract from study time. It was a lucky thing Demyx hadn't ever become a distraction, or else Lexaeus might be forced to disapprove.

“But in light of some recent developments, it seems I am not so put off as I would have expected,” Zexion opened the folder, “merely indifferent. This, as you know, is not the case for Demyx...”

He'd conducted as thorough of an online study as he could manage in a weekend, but woefully, the Internet was oversaturated with sex, and over ninety-five percent of this content was unusable. Lexaeus, who had honestly been wondering on-and-off when this topic might come up between Zexion and his paramour, nodded.

Realizing he was in the beginning stages of rambling, as he often did to avoid admitting he had no conclusion, Zexion got to the point. “Where I'm going with this, is that I would like to study... theoretically and practically, whether there is merit to physical intimacy without the component of sexual attraction in one or both parties.”

“You intend on having sex,” Lexaeus summarized.

“In fewer words, yes,” Zexion reddened. “Well, maybe.”

This was not the first time they had brought personal interests of study to the table, and regardless of the subject, Lexaeus was already getting out his pen and binder paper.

“In theory, relations with Demyx should at least operate smoothly. You are intact, hormones in balance, and while you have done no experiments to my knowledge in testing your sensitivity, there have never been prior indications that your nerves are damaged or non-functional in any way.” Lexaeus began to write out a thesis statement on the information he just rattled off.

“Yes, I came to the same conclusion. On a basic, physical level, I am just as capable as he is...”

“The only factor that may contribute to a failure in execution is a lack of physical desire,” he wrote as he went, handwriting marvelously legible. “I confess, I can't imagine a rectification or re-calibration of that factor. Methods of inspiring that desire has, I believe, been wildly overblown by media steeping society in expectation, if not the other way around.” Lexaeus's eyes raised to him, taking the opportunity to breathe. He never talked so much unless it was in the pursuit of science. “What do you intend to do, if you are unable to move forward with the experiment?”

“My understanding is that there is more than simple desire for another person that can induce such a reaction,” Zexion pondered. “If Demyx is willing, I will experiment with the conditions until I succeed in such, or take the failure to do so as evidence against my theory.”

Jotting that down, he nodded. “Have you considered pharmaceutical aid, in a scenario in which an erection seems unattainable?”

“I have, but I'm not certain whether such intervention would run the risk of skewing my results... not to mention potentially insulting Demyx...”

“I was considering the same, in terms of changing the conditions and thus altering the experience. With a side-by-side comparison...” Lexaeus thought on it very briefly, then dismissed, “Regardless, that could only be done if erection was already achievable and maintainable.”

“Precisely. My research states that arousal is influenced near as much by mental comfort as hormonal response, assuming I have both factors together. I have no cause to believe I am medically incapable, though I confess I have never seen cause to explore that...”

“We shall move forward under the assumption that you are. When it comes to the sexual activity, what has Demyx suggested?” Lexaeus went on to create a chart, freehand lines impeccable due to rock-steady hands. Zexion observed, reaffirmed in his thinking it was wise to ask Lexaeus for help – a chart was a good idea.

“... Nothing much, to be honest. I believe he assumed... and correctly, as far as I knew, that I wouldn't be interested.”

“I see,” Lexaeus mused, still in the process of writing out the forms of sexual activity he knew of... Which happened to be kind of logic-based guesses. “Based on Demyx's former reputation, we can hypothesize that most, if not all, activities that two cisgendered homosexual men can partake in hold interest for him.”

“If you turn to the blue divider, I have a section for all those activities I could find...” he cleared his throat. “Within reasonable boundaries.”

“Excellent,” Lexaeus promptly paused only to accept his research, turning through the tabs. “Are all the activities listed things you are amenable to trying, things you think Demyx wants, or a compilation of sexual activity in general?”

“I included only those activities that could be participated in by the parties you've just stated, though I avoided those which seemed particularly niche, or what I can assume would be impossible for my body without significant prior experience. All those which I'm willing to experiment with are highlighted,” Zexion indicated, shameless in divulging his hypothetical boner-diving as it was only a scientific pursuit, at this stage.

“Very efficient, this will save considerable time. We should research the safest method of execution.”

“I think that would be best... If I can get as far as the materials and methods stage, I can move into practical experimentation as soon as possible.”

“There's a sexual health section of the library,” Lexaeus put the finishing touches on the bare bones of his chart, and began to rise.

“Excellent. If you can gather a good starting selection, I will continue with my online research.” Zexion removed his tablet from his bag, feeling himself well-acquainted with unsavory sources and thus capable of avoiding them. He wouldn't wish to subject a cohort to navigating that slew.

He logged into the school's Wi-Fi network, and Lexaeus departed for the catalogs. They proceeded to spend the entirety of their study session immersed in a very detached assessment of gay sex in its various and applicable forms.

As with any new project, they both mindfully set alarms to prod them when their classes were due to start, and got completely lost in the subject. So much so that, upon parting ways, Lexaeus left with a few useful books under his free arm. Biology was perhaps a favorite of his; true, he preferred to focus on the human heart, which was a fascinatingly simple little thing to perform a complex function, but the brain ranked a close second.

And, for all the sexual organs in a human body, none mattered _nearly_ as much as the brain. Stimulus was neurological, no matter what the kind. Lexaeus had become invested, and as such, he found it more worthwhile to continue his research rather than devote an extraneous amount of time to two consecutive uninteresting labs.

His tidy chart had graduated from a collection of organized notes to a detailed construction. The sexual practices that Zexion already decided to look into now were broken down into common execution, risks, and the safety measures he could employ, all color-coded and indexed.

It was a really big chart.

Time rolled around to their lunch break, and Zexion left his mandatory English course to head to the lab Lexaeus had yet to leave. He would not, actually, because they were creatures of habit and often spent their meal times convening over more projects before accompanying each other to the university food court. He was not at all surprised to find all the time slots for the lab free apart from their regular sign-up times, since no one cared to spend much time there unless a due date or exam was around the corner.

He blocked off the next hour, and went inside. Lexaeus hadn't even removed his safety gear, not bothering to look up.

“Would you mind signing me in?”

“Already taken care of,” Zexion informed him, setting down his bag on an empty stool near the front of the room.

“Appreciated.” Lexaeus straightened up, turning the chart he'd been poring over for Zexion's appraisal and removing his safety goggles. Rather belatedly, since he hadn't been in any danger from his highlighters. Those were his trusted tools – nay, his friends.

Conversationally, though with no pressure or expectation on Lexaeus to respond, Zexion leaned closer to the chart and enquired, “How was your lab?”

“Uneventful. I found more productive uses of my time.”

“So I see,” he was reading over the notes quickly, lifting page after page.

“I believe I've found a consistent hitch and probable safety concern,” Lexaeus returned to the table, and there was no need to vocalize or point out the issue. Vividly colored in neon blue, _repeatedly_ , was Zexion's inherent lack of athleticism.

_'Awkward/uncomfortable positioning may need to be maintained.'_

As an undersized sufferer of asthma and creative thinker, Zexion had found ways of escaping gym classes since the first grade. It was remarkably easy to convince a teacher to let him sit out with a book, with only a few well-timed gasps. At the time it was an achievement, but a lack of endurance was quite the inconvenience years later.

He would curse his lack of foresight, if this experiment hadn't been so completely unanticipated.

Zexion frowned. “You bring up a very good point. I hadn't even considered that. I wonder if Demyx has more flexibility than I'm aware of...”

“I have based my assumptions on his previous lifestyle, and thus guessed that his flexibility is moderate to good,” Lexaeus noted. “If nothing else, he will be more accustomed to the strains of these positions and know how to compensate.”

“An area in which I have no prior experience to call upon...” That was rather vexing. As much as he cared for Demyx, he didn't like ever feeling as though he knew less than his boyfriend did – that wasn't personal, that was just... a thing that applied to _everyone_. “This could be a major downfall in the success of my experimentation.”

“Unless you discern what you are incapable of, and how long you're able to hold a position. I'd suggest collecting that data beforehand.”

“Agreed, but asking Demyx to help me gather that data might only trigger arousal in him before I'm fully prepared to address it...”

That thought having occurred as well, Lexaeus nodded. Zexion's eyes slowly lifted.

Well. There was _one_ potential method of running said tests.

Lexaeus met his gaze. “... Hm?”

This could require some delicacy. “I don't suppose... in a purely professional setting... you could be persuaded to...”

“Certainly,” Lexaeus indifferently picked up on his insinuation. “I'm always amenable to the collection of data.”

Pleased, Zexion meticulously put the chart back into place. “I know you are capable of easily supporting my weight, and using a non-human counterpart would make my data practically irrelevant, as well as being potentially dangerous...”

“Indeed,” Lexaeus surveyed the lab thoughtfully. “It is only a matter of where... Strictly speaking, positioning you on the lab tables is a violation of safety regulations...”

“True...” Zexion looked towards the front of the classroom. “I suppose as long as it isn't in use, the professor's desk is the safest surface...”

The professor kept the surface very clear, unlike many who cluttered them up. Most helpful, in this circumstance.

“I came to the same conclusion.”

“Then we should make use of the time we have...” Zexion started up to the front of the class again, Lexaeus on his heels with his phone in-hand. He went through apps deftly to get to a timer.

“Down to the second, I assume?” Nanoseconds seemed excessive.

“That would be best,” Zexion confirmed, stopping in front of the desk. “Which positions would be best to try? Estimating they take several minutes each to tire of...”

“Hm, perhaps visual aids are necessary...” Quickly, Lexaeus went to look some up on his phone, completely unblinking in the face of full nudity and precarious arrangements borrowed from the Kama Sutra.

“Excellent. I'd estimate no more than five for today,” Zexion decided. “We need to reserve time to eat lunch, still.”

“Good thinking.” Memorizing what he determined to be fairly standard positions, Lexaeus gave the phone over to Zexion to time everything. “Most of these involve your legs more than hands.”

“I assumed that would be the case,” he took the phone. “Thank you.”

Swiftly, Lexaeus lifted Zexion with the ease of a bodybuilder picking up a toddler to lie him back onto the length of the desk. In the interest of time, Zexion didn't object to the manhandling.

“We'll be sure to include the firmness of this surface in our notes...” he brought Zexion's legs up, hooking them over his arms and holding his hips up at an angle with overlarge hands. Zexion started the timer.

“Naturally.”

Neither of them were in the least bothered by the fact that Lexaeus's groin was quite close to other intimate parts of Zexion, the latter watching the timer with an expression almost like boredom while the former held him up effortlessly.

“Hm, my spine is taking strain almost immediately, but again, the surface accounts for that...”

“Interesting. Likewise, you may find that more pressure is put higher on your upper back when you're with Demyx... This position would have to be coordinated over his shoulders, instead.”

“Of course, he wouldn't be able to keep me up just with his hands for long...”

“I imagine his arms would take the place of my hands.”

“Likely. Although, another implement could be added altogether. One of those wedge pillows, for example. Maybe I should look into that.” Idly, Zexion allowed himself to imagine Demyx over him in a similar manner, and wondered if that should stir something in him. The mental picture was hard to even construct – what would Demyx's expression be like? What enjoyment would he get from this?

“A worthwhile investment, if you plan on doing this with any regularity.”

“That remains to be seen, but I've been tempted for ages just for the purpose of reading in bed. Having a dual purpose might justify the cost.”

“I believe they can be found at an affordable expense,” Lexaeus approved, and considered getting one for himself now that the idea had been put in his head. Zexion considered what sort of price range he'd be looking at, and whether or not he should order one or try to find one locally available.

His thought process was somewhat impeded by the strain and burgeoning numbness. “This is starting to get tiring on my back... I imagine it would be more so with motion involved.”

“Should we include motion?”

“I'm not sure. Don't feel obligated to take this any further than you're comfortable with, of course.”

Unblinkingly, Lexaeus shook his head in lieu of shrugging. “I don't mind. You're my closest colleague, and I am always privileged to partake in unexplored areas of study with you.”

Always a frank speaker. Zexion could be blunt in his opinions, but he still had a sense of pretense about him that he tired of in everyone else. Lexaeus and Demyx shared that honest streak he found so refreshing.

Zexion smiled, as close to affectionately as they could manage. “Let's say we'll hold that in reserve. For now, could you position my legs a little higher? I think they should be feeling more strained than this...”

“Very well.” Lexaeus obliged.

 _There_ was the stretch. Why on earth did _anyone_ stretch for _fun_ , this was _awful_. “Ngh-... Yes, this seems more in line with my theory...”

“Is it too much?”

Zexion sounded a little labored. “It will be very soon...”

The door to the lab opened in time to catch _that_ particular exchange, and Vexen's keys clattered to the floor. Worth noting was the way Lexaeus's lab coat, which he hadn't felt it was necessary to remove, draped over and effectively shielded their states of dress, and the fact that the desk they were using happened to belong to him.

In the span of a second, he lost all color, then became brilliantly red and flustered while spitting, “I _beg_ your pardon!”

Unaffected, Lexaeus looked up. “Professor Itetsuku.”

“Oh,” Zexion craned his neck slightly, glancing over. “Excuse us, Professor. You can put me down now,” he informed Lexaeus.

“We will have to try this again in an area we cannot be interrupted...”

Vexen scrambled to pick his keys up, dexterity having fallen victim to shrill-voiced shock. “I dare say _so!_ What did you think-? Why would you possibly-?! Of all the unseemly-!”

Stopping the timer as he sat up, Zexion sighed. “The desk provides better compensation for our height difference, but you're right.” Looking to Vexen, he righted himself and brushed himself off. “We'll give you use of your desk again.”

Vexen, still very red, was utterly incomprehensible. Lexaeus went to gather his things.

“So, there's nothing more we can learn here for now. Should we go to lunch?” Zexion suggested. He could write down the discomforts he'd experienced, but they hardly felt relevant now that their experiment had been interrupted...

Nodding in agreement, Lexaeus joined Zexion by the door with his lab coat still on. Vexen squeaked, frothing with indignation.

“I'll see you this afternoon, Professor,” Zexion shouldered his bag as he was escorted out the door. The shrill sound that escaped Vexen's lips was probably an affirmative, still rooted to the spot.

What strange behavior. Still, Zexion dismissed the oddities of his favorite teacher, having _much_ more important things to think about, and walked with Lexaeus in comfortable silence.

He would have to consult with Demyx to accumulate more hard facts.

 

* * *

 

Any resounding success was worth repeating, in Axel's book. First time hanging out, no-bondage-ropes attached? That'd worked well. There was a mite of awkwardness no matter what, but that wasn't enough to kill their attempts. They'd met up in public spaces on a pretty regular basis – just the occasional shared lunch break or free hour in which they'd dick around, with no dicks involved, at stores or walking from point A to point B. So sure, having Roxas over for an actual afternoon of friendly activities would probably go just fine.

Just as long as they weren't unsupervised.

Axel had determined – probably pretty accurately – that the easiest way to slip up and into each other was to get some privacy. That first hang-out session might have gone very differently if not for the G-rated presence of Sora just in the other room, and everything since then had been under the eyes of dozens of strangers.

The key to continued success was a chaperone, and Axel had bribed Demyx into the job. He hadn't seen fit to tell him _why_ , because Demyx would most likely scoff and whine and tell Axel to control his libido on his own, like the rest of the adult world. Which was like, no? Why would he do that when he could just have Demyx do that for him? Obviously.

Still, he was a little nerve-wracked. Chaperone or no chaperone, this was also the first chunk of time over an hour that they planned on being together. In a friendly way.

This could be disastrous. What did people even _do_ together for that amount of time? Video games? Movies? Paint each other's nails? Wet polish would keep their hands still and make fingering a messy and unpleasant affair, what a perfect cockblocking pastime.

Wait, Axel didn't own nail polish.

There was a knock at the door, and Axel made no move to get off the couch.

To his credit, he'd resisted the immediate impulse to dive behind it and hide flawlessly.

Demyx peeked out from the kitchen, in the midst of raiding the fridge to binge his Zexion-less afternoon away. “Are you gonna answer that?”

“Could you do it?” He was busy. Panicking.

Unsympathetic, Demyx just gave him a weary look. “Really?”

On the other side of the door, Roxas was growing quickly unimpressed and knocked again after ten seconds of waiting. Axel shot up and went to the door, before he could inadvertently put Roxas in a foul mood and make this whole hang-out thing harder.

“Hey, sorry 'bout that...”

“Mn.” There was no hint of forgiveness in Roxas's acknowledging sound. Axel would get his comeuppance for that; if not now, then _one day_. “Can I come in then?”

Axel stepped aside. “... Demyx is here.”

“Hi,” their no-sex supervisor called from the kitchen gloomily. He wished he could text Zexion, but he'd been informed earlier that his beloved would be putting in some extra time with his study group, which meant it was best to leave him to it.

Only leftover pizza could comfort him now. Cold comfort.

He should've microwaved it... Better late than never. Demyx plopped it back on a plate to heat for forty seconds.

“Okay,” Roxas shrugged, letting his coat drop as he stepped inside. He was hugging himself as he slipped his shoes off in attempt to get some warmth back into him – today, of all the days he'd voluntarily gone outside for _not_ -sex, was experiencing a cold snap.

“What, that cold out?” Axel, who hadn't had to go anywhere and thus hadn't even changed out of pyjamas, raised an eyebrow.

“Cold enough.”

“You have no resistance to temperature,” he commented, and then managed to teasingly offer, “You want to snuggle until you're warm again?”

Roxas stepped out of his shoes. Bros used their bro's body heat to recover from the harsh cold, right? That was a thing bros most likely did. They would, if their bro was _Axel_ and thus capable of melting snow by sitting on it.

“... I wouldn't use the word 'snuggle'.”

“If you ever did, I think I'd have a heart attack,” Axel went back to crash on the couch.

Roxas rolled his eyes and followed. “Just warm me.”

Flinging one arm out, Axel pulled Roxas onto the couch to sprawl him over his lap. Too chilled to care about anything but his extreme body heat, Roxas willingly collapsed on top of him, and it wasn't weird at all because Demyx was just in the kitchen, mournfully chewing on a slice of Hawaiian and willing his phone to vibrate.

Which it did.

“So...” Axel swallowed.

“... Uh, yeah?”

“What d'you feel like doing?” He hoped Roxas wouldn't say 'paint our nails'. He had _nothing_ on that front.

Ignoring the goings-on in the living room, Demyx lit up as he read the text he'd just received:

_[Zexion <3<3<3\. 4:32 PM] 'I have concluded with my study group. If you don't mind, I would like to meet up and discuss some of my findings with you.'_

Zexion wanted to see him and talk about smart-people things. No amount of bribery could _ever_ stand a chance, even if it was one solid month of Axel taking care of all the garbage and recycling.

Demyx dropped everything and dashed to grab his coat.

“Was just -” Roxas stopped mid-sentence, glancing up to watch the frenzy.

“... What, you're leaving?” Axel sounded warning, but Demyx wasn't in the least apologetic.

“Zexy's study group let out early. Or he finished early. Or he's ditching. Probably not ditching, he's _Zexion_ , it's not smart to ditch studying and he's _so_ smart,” he fawned, doing up his jacket and jamming his feet into his beat-up shoes. “Bye!”

Roxas blinked. “See you?”

“ _Demyx -”_

He was already halfway out the door.

“Sorry, Axel!” He dashed off, shutting the door after him. The two of them stared in the ringing aftermath, reeling, and having Roxas in his lap suddenly felt twice as intimate.

“Uh,” Roxas glanced at him.

“... Alright, well. Screw him.” He was going to murder Demyx for this, one day. This was the worst betrayal anyone had ever experienced in the history of ever.

It was starting to sink in, with Roxas; they had to behave, for the first time, with _no one_ around to enforce them. “... So, what, video games?”

“... Maybe we should go out somewhere.”

Apparently, the fact that it'd been irritatingly cold only a second ago didn't bother Roxas so much as letting things heat up in _here_. He slid right off of Axel, agreeing, “Yeah, sounds good.”

What a fucking relief. “I'll go put on the sort of pants adults wear,” Axel stood up.

Roxas actively bit back an argument that all manner of adult activity could be done without pants on. Or, innuendo. It was less argument, more innuendo. “I'll wait...”

Axel mindfully closed the door to his bedroom before starting to change. Roxas plopped back on the living room couch, and exhaled loudly.

A door wasn't that great of a barrier, really. Like, what could a _door_ do to stop him? Be closed? Big deal, he could throw it open while Axel was half-naked, offer to make up for any potential embarrassment with a courtesy blowjob. After that, a true gentleman would let Roxas get off, too... Maybe even lend a hand, mouth, whatever. And Axel... well, he'd _claimed_ to be a gentleman, once.

But then, what if he got worked up in the reciprocation process? That'd be entirely Roxas's fault. So, naturally, they'd fall into a cycle of orgasms and all the while, Roxas would blame the _door_ for its half-assed attempt at guarding Axel's virtue.

Before Roxas could do anything other than direct indignant rage at the door, Axel stepped out wearing the baggiest jeans he owned.

Which... basically meant they 'weren't tight'. Roxas sat up and tried not to look... in despair.

“So, I assume we're at least making a pit stop for ice cream...”

Cold or no cold, it was always ice cream weather.

“Obviously,” Roxas got to his feet. “My stash at home is gone...”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “... Didn't you pretty much buy their whole stock?”

“Yes.”

Yet Roxas was out of ice cream. “... _How?_ ”

“It's been like a week,” he shrugged.

Axel was not crazy. It had been more than two weeks since their first platonic-friend-date.

“How often do you go, now?!”

Unblinking and unashamed, Roxas started to get his shoes back on. “At least once a week. More if I can find time. I'd go after work, but it's really out of the way from there.”

“... What have I _done_...” Axel finished zipping up his boots, and Roxas shrugged his jacket back on.

“Destroyed my college fund, pretty much.”

Oh.

... That was awkward.

“Shit,” Axel paused, mid-reach for his hoodie. “My bad.”

Roxas hadn't actually meant to bring that up, ever. Uncomfortably, he tried to cover with, “I'll probably just have to take an extra shift every week from now on...”

“I'm gonna look into buying it from a less expensive source,” Axel decided, illogically guilt-ridden. “For now it's my treat.”

“... You sure?”

“Yeah, this is my fault. You know, in a way.”

“Alright,” Roxas stepped through the door, not sure how comfortable he was with that prospect. Saying 'no' meant no ice cream, though. “I guess you accept responsibility for my addiction.”

“I know when to take the blame. And the credit.” Axel locked the door after them. “So... After ice cream...”

“We should probably stay out,” Roxas latched to the change in topic, even though it wasn't honestly any easier on the brain.

“Oh, definitely,” Axel quickly agreed, determined not to be alone with him again. He'd make this work if it fucking killed him.

“We could just... hang out...?”

“Where? I mean... what do you wanna do?”

They were both silent as they walked to the elevator, trying to come up with something that regular friends would just _do_. When had they become so bad at this?

Roxas was kicking himself. He _had_ friends. They hung out. But sitting around and talking wasn't really an option – not in the apartment. If they chose a talking venue, they'd have to buy something, which was... maybe okay... But, going for coffee felt too much like a euphemism and _then_ what? What did they even have to talk about that wouldn't allude to sex at all?

Yeah, coffee wasn't involved enough. They'd start talking, start thinking, start mentally undressing. Then there was nothing to keep them outside and they'd go back to Axel's and fuck like the last two bunnies on Earth trying desperately to revive the population.

So... Alright, things he did with Hayner, Pence, and Olette... “Most of the time my friends and I just go to the skate park...”

“We could try that...” Axel hesitated. “Never skated in my life, but hey...”

“Could get that evening in the hospital you promised.”

“Would you nurse me back to health?”

No, mouth, _slow down_ , wait for the brain to catch up. Axel kicked himself.

Roxas was just at a loss.

“... That was... dumb...” Axel tried to recover. “So, maybe not the skate park...”

“Have you got any better ideas?” Sincerely, Roxas wanted to know.

“Movies?”

He gave Axel a flat look. “Dark enclosed space?”

“Right. No.” Making out would just be inevitable.

Roxas sighed. “We could just eat and walk, I guess.”

“Yeah...”

“Great.” That really wasn't far enough away from sitting down for coffee. Plus, it kept them _outside_.

Still thinking, Axel got in the elevator and ran a hand through his hair. “... We'll come up with something.”

He doubted that. It looked like Roxas was doomed to a much shorter encounter with Axel than anticipated, as they'd probably have to split up to prevent themselves from doing something stupid. At least he was going to get ice cream out of this.

“... We could go to the theater anyway...” Axel mused. “Arcade?”

Holy shit that was it. The holy grail of platonic ideas.

“... I like the way you think.”

Relaxing, Axel grinned. “Sweet. We've got a plan.”

“You might regret that when you challenge me to air hockey,” Roxas leaned into the opposite wall, heart beating a half-step faster already. It'd been _ages_ since he'd been to an arcade... No one would _go_ with him anymore, and what was he going to do, go alone? Play against little kids? Hell no. Their hands weren't even big enough to reach all the buttons on a standard game controller.

Even Hayner, who he could count on for any grudge match potentially ending in violence and friendship-testing insults, had called an end to all arcade hangouts after last year's terrible Mortal Kombat incident and their subsequent lifelong ban from the downtown arcade fun complex.

Axel took in the expression on his face with a bit of his 'I came up with something, good job me' satisfaction fading. “Oh fuck, you're competitive. I forgot.”

Roxas smirked.

“Just... don't hurt me,” Axel cautioned as he stepped out of the elevator, which in of itself was adorable. As though there would be _repercussions_.

“I can't promise that.”

“Is my _safety_ at risk, here?”

“If you promise me more ice cream, I might go easy on you.”

“That's bribery. That's immoral.”

“Are you going to fight me on it?”

“You'd just _like_ that.”

They exited through the side door of the building, and Roxas admitted, “I'm trying to see how much of this I can muscle you into paying for.”

He narrowed his eyes at him, and Roxas failed to look innocent. “... Crafty. We'll see when you max out my generosity.”

The two of them spent the entire trip to the ice cream shop haggling over numbers, Roxas's starting point having been 'everything they have' and only forsaken because there was no way they could carry that much stock around for hours without it melting. Roxas had to do a great deal more compromising and wound up with two ice cream bars to Axel's single one, and was finishing the second as they entered the movie theater a few blocks away.

Still savoring the remains of his, Axel shouldered the door open and bypassed the ticket-purchasing counter, just making for the arcade section.

“We've got your standard fare – foosball, air hockey, racing...”

“How many tokens are we getting?” Roxas licked the last few sugary dribbles from the stick.

“One sec...” Axel put his between his teeth, checking his wallet. When he spoke, it was badly muffled. “I have... enough for ten.”

With a frown, Roxas pulled out his own to investigate his financial situation. “I can do twenty.”

“Pool funds, get as many as possible?”

He dropped the bill into Axel's hand. “My thoughts exactly.”

Accepting it, Axel removed the stick from his mouth and finished off his ice cream. “I should've thought ahead and gotten out more cash...”

“I can't be out _that_ long, anyway,” he shrugged. Axel went to discard his stick, and then turned to feed the machine bills.

“More work stuff, more school stuff, or more recreational stuff?”

As if they both didn't know what Roxas's 'recreational stuff' consisted of.

“School,” Roxas sounded unimpressed. “I have a college essay due by the end of the week.”

“Oh. That's depressing.”

“Right?”

“If you want help... I write a lot of essays,” Axel offered. “Lab essays have a different format, but.”

It was just an offer of help, from a friend. Roxas might've bristled otherwise, created implications about him being a child and needing the aid in _every little thing_ he did, but kept cool about it. “I think I've got it under control, but thanks...”

Axel held up the tokens now pooled in his hands. “In the meantime.”

That was more like it.

They dumped the tokens in Roxas's pockets, since he had bigger ones, and he started to wander between neon-flashing games. “What should I destroy you in first...”

“You're too sweet,” Axel remarked.

“Fuck it, let's do foosball,” Roxas shrugged, making his decision. “If I try it after I've been riled up, I might seriously break it.”

There was a chance he was kidding. “I get the feeling you aren't kidding.”

He just grinned and went around to take the blue side. With the sense that Roxas was going to be _very_ disappointed with his performance, Axel took the red and watched him drop in a token. The ball was produced, and upon meeting the mini-turf, it meandered from the middle towards the red players.

Obviously, proficiency at fake-soccer be damned, Axel was going to _try_ to win. He tweaked the rod and kicked the little ball. It was immediately fired back at him. Hard.

While he tried to monopolize the ball as much as possible, Roxas took every opportunity to deflect it _violently_ whenever it came near his players, practically leaping back and forth between the end handles. Axel was less and less able to keep up.

“Rox... You'd give a referee a heart attack...”

“They took me out of team sports early,” he responded, a little distractedly.

“Before you could rack up a body count?”

Roxas muttered, “ _Much_ of one...”

For unrelated reasons, Axel missed the ball as it was shot through his goal. Roxas jumped up and whooped, caught up in the game.

Axel glared down his goalie as he retrieved from the ball. “What the fuck was that? Can I replace my defense, is that a thing?”

Roxas leaned over his handles again with an almost hungry expression, eyes on the ball. Honestly, Axel was able to say that he was a little bit terrifying like this.

He dropped the ball near his own goal to send it flying across the table, and Roxas had to dive to the knob to block it. He sent it back right into one of Axel's players, and hey, maybe he could at least score one goal.

Axel focused. Several returns were sent his way before a rod spun out of Roxas's control, and the miss tied the score. He smirked broadly.

Roxas rolled his eyes.

Their game went on with growing viciousness, and was probably at the point of escalating when their players accidentally locked with a ball between them.

“... Shit. Well...”

“Truce?” Roxas's eyes flickered to him. “Momentarily?”

“... Sure,” Axel stood up slowly. “I trust you. You've got one of those faces.”

“I've actually got three.”

With a snort, Axel relented against the ball. They dropped the ball back in the middle, and it wasn't a minute later that Roxas scored again. He laughed triumphantly, and Axel groaned.

“See how long you're smug...”

“You will,” Roxas's eyes gleamed.

“You are... _disturbing_ , you know that?” Axel went for the ball.

“You had to see this side of me eventually.”

“I dunno if that's a good thing. Before, if like, a cop came to my door, told me you'd stabbed someone? I would've covered for you.” Dropping the ball to resume play, Axel was quick to try to get it over to Roxas's side. “Now... seems like a plausible thing you'd do...”

Roxas fought it back. “But you'd still cover for me?”

“Well, yeah, but I'd be an accessory.”

“Would it help if I said you're my favorite accessory?”

A week or two ago, that comment might've stung. But in the moment, Axel didn't actually connect any connotations to that, good or bad.

Maybe they were finally starting to pull this 'friend' thing off.

“That's... sweet... Aw, shit-...” he almost missed a goal. Roxas scowled, redoubling his efforts to kick it in, and... Yup, there it was.

“Shi-it...”

Roxas smirked and checked the score. “Does this go to five or seven?”

“Who knows... Five might save my dignity a little...”

Pulling back to crack his knuckles, Roxas grinned in a really annoyingly superior way. At least it was difficult to be attracted to him while he was completely dominating Axel's ass in a stupid game -

Wait. No. That'd been a dumb thing to think. The word 'dominating' probably should have been blacklisted by his common sense.

Were Roxas not also so caught up in the game, as well, he would have realized that the warm, satisfied feeling of beating him was a lot like getting Axel under his heel in _other_ ways.

They resumed the game, Roxas a touch less vicious now that he was up by two.

That was a mistake he suffered for, when he accidentally misfired and helped the ball into his own goal.

“Goddamn it...” Rather dramatically, Roxas sank behind the table.

“Few more like that, and you'll be eating your words,” Axel purred, grinning like a shark.

Roxas froze briefly. The tone of his voice was a sharp reminder.

Yeah, no, they'd never be good at 'friends'. Not if Axel was going to keep talking in his stupid sexy voice.

Clearing his throat, Roxas got to his feet and tried to play off his reaction. “You can talk when you're actually in the lead.”

Axel never got the lead.

However, Roxas's win felt rather tainted, as the final goal had been completely undefended. Axel had gotten the _rudest_ intrusive thought to kiss him – as a method of distraction, obviously, because when did he ever play fair?

But that was a bad idea. One that inspired Axel to stare at Roxas's lips as they pursed together, his expression all focused, right up until they split into a grin and he'd stepped back with both hands triumphantly in the air.

“... Huh?”

Yeah, the look on Axel's face as he recovered kind of... sucked the fun right out of the victory. Roxas gave him a strange look.

“Oh, shit,” he cleared his throat. “Totally lost track of the ball.”

“Victory is still victory,” he declared, almost defensively. Not that he cared, whatever, it was just an arcade game. But if Axel wanted to call foul on it, that was fine by him. He'd just massacre him at it, _again_.

Axel did no such thing, though. “No argument here.”

Not liking the hollow feeling that had, Roxas looked around. “Anyway, what's next?”

“We could do the racing one. I'm better at driving.”

“I can't argue that.”

“God forbid you get bored because I stop posing a challenge,” Axel sighed dramatically, following him to the little booths decorated to look like racecars.

“I don't get bored of winning,” Roxas said solemnly, to which Axel snorted. “No, seriously, you have no idea what it's like growing up with Sora and Ven playing against you in _everything_.”

“They competitive, too?”

Roxas looked utterly serious. “When it comes to competition, I'm the chill one between the three of us.”

Axel stopped dead, frankly horror-struck. That... That couldn't be. Sora, that tender-hearted little gay, and Ven, that subconsciously kinky virginal lookalike? No. No, there was no way.

“Have you ever noticed there's a scar on my right ear?”

He was too shocked to properly control the brain-to-mouth function. “I think I've nibbled it before?”

“Yeah,” Roxas turned the tiniest bit pink. “Sora.”

And that was why Mario Kart had been banned in their household.

“... Wouldn't have suspected...”

“He's like a wolverine when he loses.”

Shaking his head slowly, Axel took his seat at the racing game, legs bunched up against the pedals. Roxas's reached them quite comfortably, and he wondered if that would put Axel at a disadvantage.

Oh well, who cared. That was his fault for having long, slender legs that were easily draped over shoulders.

Oh, god _damn_ it, he'd been doing so well.

Roxas dropped in a couple of tokens with a blush on his face and the first stirrings of attention in his dick. He'd just keep playing Axel in games and hope that the spirit of competition was enough to quash his arousal. Momentary reminders of sex aside, this was going _well_. Maybe they were finally starting to pull this 'friend' thing off.

Another victory clued Roxas in to the fact that a competition against _Axel_ felt a lot like foreplay, but not before his semi-erection did. Apparently, it hadn't passed along the memo, and Roxas was stuck behind the fake wheel of a car, insisting that they play at least a couple more rounds on the racing game while he inwardly berated himself into calming down.

Although puzzled, and getting one hell of a leg cramp, Axel acquiesced and thought that maybe the arcade hadn't been such a good idea after all. He now feared for his safety if he won a game while Roxas was in full-scale competition mode, _and_ he couldn't shake the mental picture of him with a whip in one hand and an old-school game controller in the other.

And for some reason, his mental picture had him naked, with dominatrix dress-up gear optional.

Yeah... no. They'd never be good at friends.


	14. Feelings Are Important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! As anyone who follows our tumblr may know, Muffin is participating in NaNoWriMo this year and exclusively working on fanfiction. Any support you guys could throw his way would be super freaking amazing, because writing is roughly a thousand times easier with responses from a wicked cool community. SO MANY THANKS to everyone who's been commenting (especially repeat commenters, you're amazing and we love you) and leaving kudos!

Graduating from a learner's permit to a restricted license was a milestone well worth acknowledging, and when Ven had aced that test, his entire family had been on-board with celebrating. There had been a dinner, a gift – a racing game, given with warnings from his parents to just enjoy playing with his brothers and not take it too far, which didn't work out and the game had to be permanently banned from the household – and cake. Every celebration had to have _cake_.

Thus, Terra insisted on stopping by the grocery store on the way back to his place to pick one up, a reward for graduating to a full driver's license. Ven had a huge grin all the way back from the DMV, sending texts to every member of his family and only resisting the urge to go driving all over town because he wanted to settle in with Terra for their mini-party.

It was hard to be happier than Ven, at the moment, but Terra thought he just might be. He was _proud_ of him, brimming with it, but he was also freaking _relieved_. Now Ven could drive them places, if they needed to go anywhere. Terra couldn't stand driving, himself. Sure, as a _kid_ he'd wanted to be a racer, but... Dreams changed. Experience was a harsh teacher, and traffic tickets were the grown-up detention slips of shame.

Holding open the door to his apartment with one hand and holding a bakery box in the other, Terra grinned down at Ven as he slipped under his arm. “Take-out, then cake? Or cake and then we order?”

“Well... we have the cake here _now_...”

With a laugh, Terra let the door shut and stole a quick kiss. “Can you grab plates? I'll start cutting slices.”

“Sure!” Ven practically jumped out of his shoes on his way to the kitchen, knowing his way around the cupboards.

They'd probably need something to drink, too...

As Ven took out the two smallest plates and poured them glasses of filtered water, Terra set the box on the counter and began to cut equal, oversized pieces of cake. Ven turned to look at them, considering.

“Hm... We're gonna need bigger ones.” He put back the small plates to grab a pair of dinner-sized ones.

“Knowing us,” Terra laughed.

“I think I earned a whole half a cake today,” Ven boasted, laying the plates down on the counter. He wasn't given a whole half – that was a _little_ unreasonable.

Terra served him a _proper_ portion, which only amounted to a _quarter_ of the cake.

“Save some room. We've still got to get dinner at some point.”

“Okay, okay,” Ven amended. “Do you think we should save a piece for Aqua? Maybe Sensei, too...” he bit his lip, in the throes of deepest conflict. On the one hand, it'd be nice to share with the special people in his life, and he wanted them to have some part in his accomplishments.

But... _his_ cake.

“... We could always buy another one,” Terra suggested.

Ven perked up. “Good thinking.”

Pretty _and_ smart... sometimes. Truly, Terra was the whole package.

“What d'you think, should we order right now?” he put another quarter of cake on the other plate. “It's gonna take a while to deliver... But it might be too early for dinner...”

“We should, since we're eating cake now.”

“I'll order, then.” Terra simultaneously kissed him and got out his phone, and Ven grinned into it, getting a very brief image of the two of them doing exactly _this_. Years from now, in their own home, maybe with a bigger kitchen and a recently adopted puppy.

“You know what I want?”

“Mm?” Terra hadn't dialed yet, kind of considering kissing him again. Suddenly, Ven was blushing.

“... Uh. Never mind. I mean. What I want to eat, heh...”

“Oh – yeah,” he confirmed, intrigued by the blush and then embarrassed by it. What had he been thinking about, to light up like that? Probably something cute. Ven _rarely_ did anything not-adorable. Every part of him was lovely, thoughts included, and Terra couldn't fathom otherwise.

“Okay,” Ven watched him dial, then pointed mutely towards the living room before carrying off both plates and a pair of forks. He had to come back for their glasses of water. Terra watched him affectionately, raiding his 'pizza money' jar as he ordered an extra-large of Ven's favorite.

The two of them could demolish a meal meant for a garrison, so even with the cake, they'd probably need it.

With exquisite patience, Ven waited for Terra to come back and sit with him before eating. Not that it was _easy_ , the frosting alone practically taunting him with demands of _'Eat me.'_

Thank god for all that training, fortifying his resistance for circumstances just like this.

Terra joined him on the couch and pulled Ven against his side, kissing his forehead and grabbing a plate. “So, now that you can drive... Think you'll save for a car?”

Snuggling against him, Ven looked to the ceiling in thought. “Dunno. I mean, I want to have one some day. Especially if I have to move for school or something...”

Unable to help himself, Terra frowned. “You're thinking of moving?”

He hadn't known that. Why hadn't he known that?

“Not if I get into my first choice school,” Ven explained hastily.

Oh. Well, still... It'd be optimistic to just figure he would. Everyone in the area would undoubtedly be applying to HBU; not only was it a good school, the chance to stay local and escape dorm fees was an alluring draw for poor high school kids and their hardworking parents.

“... Well, if we had to, commuting to see each other will at least be easier with two cars. Maybe I should start saving, too.”

Ven sat up a little, worried. “You don't have to do that...”

He nudged him, raising a forkful of cake. “No way I could go too long without seeing you.”

A tiny bit appeased – because Ven had to admit, it'd definitely be easier to see each other if it wasn't just Ven driving out to see Terra – he grinned, eyeing the fork. “I'll stay as close as I can.”

Then he opened his mouth wide. Terra redirected the fork with a subtle snort, feeding Ven the cake instead. “Even if you have to travel... School's only a few years. Not that long, if you look at the bigger picture...”

Ven closed his mouth around the fork and dragged back. Delicious sugary vanilla sweetness. “... And you're doing that?”

Terra smiled. “Aqua's not the only one who can act like an adult. I didn't actually think about you leaving for school... But I wouldn't want to let four years get in the way. After it's over with, we'll be together again and it won't seem so sad.”

“But by then I'll be like... twenty-two or something...” Ven despaired, totally not thinking.

Terra cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Well-...”

Oh. Oh _no_.

Realization hit him over the head with horrible guilt. “Oh god, I didn't mean-... That's not _old_ , I just-... I'm sorry...”

Lifting another forkful of cake, Terra put it carefully in Ven's mouth to silence him. Ven, while still looking distressed, was effectively shut up and chewed.

Yeah, he just couldn't stay annoyed with him. Terra's tiny twinge of love-laden irritation was just love, again. “Twenty-two isn't _old_. We'll be together when you're _much_ older than that.”

Placated, Ven swallowed and laughed. “When we're both old men, you won't seem much older than me.”

“Exactly,” Terra snorted. “No one will even be able to tell once we're both bald and wrinkly.”

Ven wrinkled his nose. “You really think we'll go bald?”

“Man, I hope not...”

Ven went a little pale as he tried to construct _that_ image. He thought he could picture Terra gray, but the idea of his own hairline receding... That wasn't a pretty picture.

“You know what, twenty-two is pretty young still,” he decided nervously.

“Like I said, big picture,” Terra snickered, lifting another mouthful of cake for him. “And I want to be in it, when you're twenty-two. I could ride out four years of traveling back and forth... I kind of do that already, for tournaments.”

“That's true. I guess I don't need Sensei to drive me to my own tournaments anymore, huh?”

“Not unless you want to have someone to bug the whole ride,” he teased.

“Good point. I could drive _you!_ ”

“I _guess_ we could do that.” Terra held up the fork again, but to Ven's befuddlement, it wasn't close enough. He glanced between his boyfriend and the fork, then leaned across him for it.

It remained out of reach until Ven was practically in his lap, and then Terra stole a kiss. Ven's surprise only lasted a second before he was laughing into it.

That sound warmed him, and Terra smiled against his lips. Ven kissed him contently, staying right where he was despite the precarious balance of plates, and it was way too soon for Terra to pull away.

He replaced the kiss with cake, but that was an unexpectedly weak consolation prize.

“Aw...” Ven was muffled. Terra apologetically moved the plates back onto the coffee table, then drew him properly into his lap.

Immediately, Ven got comfortable with a tiny noise of contentment, and they were kissing again, both of Terra's arms wrapped around him. _This_ felt like the reward Ven had actually been waiting for; he was pulled in closer, kissing back sweetly in both taste and demeanor.

“Mm...” Terra's exhale was full-bodied, holding him as close as he could. The pride still bubbling up in his chest deepened the kiss on his behalf, and Ven parted his lips in enthusiastic response.

That noise made him feel all... _shivery_ , warm, and another one followed it. Ven draped his hands around the back of Terra's neck, and felt _something_ change.

He couldn't place it, yet, but the atmosphere had turned itself on like a lamp on a timer. Terra was getting caught up in him, hands running down his sides with something like a groan. Experimentally, Ven kissed him even deeper.

“ _Mm-mn_...” Terra tried to give his approval words, but his tongue was kind of occupied. But the _boldness_ was good, and Ven started to get the idea that he could do _more_.

Obviously he was going to leap right onto that. Terra started to sink back into the couch and Ven urged him on, settling into his lap completely without having to break the kiss for anything.

But he almost did when Terra's fingers accidentally brushed his ass a little. Just out of instinct, which told him to start babbling in embarrassment... but he didn't, only thinking it was necessary if Terra acted just as awkward. Mindlessly, Terra was compelled to get an actual feel for him, to know every part of him, and Ven supposed this could be okay.

No need to stop if Terra wasn't getting flustered...

Unknowingly, Ven was teasing with his tongue, and Terra's sounds became more desperate – he was caught off-guard by his want and he couldn't even properly identify it, but Ven moaned softly at the _rush_ those unexpected sounds were giving him and there was nothing else for it.

The less he thought, the better Terra was at this. He slowly palmed his way down to Ven's ass and squeezed.

Ven broke the kiss with a gasp.

“ _Ven_...” Breathlessly, Terra kissed his cheeks, his jaw, and then stopped quickly because _what was he doing?_ “Oh-...”

Wide-eyed and red-faced, Ven tried not to just protest the lack of kissing and squeezing. “Um, is that not okay...?”

“It's-... _Is_ it?”

“I thought it was pretty okay...” he mumbled.

Still flustered, Terra's eyes dropped to his lips, eyebrows raising. “ _Really_...?” Wait, he couldn't just lean in and pick up from where they left off. He was halfway to doing that, but _no_. He regained a hold of himself. “Wait-... Maybe...” he took a deep breath. “Maybe we should talk about this.”

Ven looked...a tad disappointed. “... Sure.”

Damn it. He was weak. Weak to temptation, specifically, because physically he was actually pretty strong but, weakness prevailed which made it strong in its very own special way.

“In... a minute?”

“That sounds good,” Ven met the kiss with a smile, and Terra wanted this _forever_. He deepened it quickly, already cranking the heat back up to where it was, and Ven's fingers drifted down his chest and dug in a little.

Terra's breath audibly hitched, always so loud, and he shifted so Ven could be flush to his lap. Their legs were getting tangled up, Ven was shivering and moaning a little – he _really_ appreciated how vocal he was, there was never any doubt that he liked this.

Fuck, did he _ever_ like this. One hand slid through Ven's hair while the other cautiously resumed kneading his ass, kind of enamored with it.

“Mn...” Ven didn't at all mind the pressure of his hand (though it kind of brought a whole host of questions to mind) and he tried to press down even more. Nothing felt close enough.

Terra was actually starting to feel like this wasn't enough, and he couldn't remember ever wanting anything like that before. Even when things had gotten heated between them in the past, it wasn't like _this_ , he'd never thought it needed to go anywhere.

And it wasn't that he even wanted 'more', necessarily... He just didn't want to do anything but make Ven sound like that.

He was hard, and hot, and so beautiful – and Terra's own erection was straining upwards and his notice of it jolted him.

“ _Mmn_ -...” Terra sat up, eyes wide and faintly flushed; he didn't want _'more'_ , he suddenly felt a lot like he was taking advantage. “Talking. We-... We should talk about this. Now, I guess...”

Ven mirrored his expression, scooting back of his lap. “ _Okay_...”

Calming down. Terra quickly identified the only way to do that was to not look at Ven. “... So... We've been-...” he hesitated, clearing his throat. “Things have been... going this way, sometimes...”

“Yep.” Ven squeezed his hands in his lap.

“... I don't _mean_ to get, uh...”

“I know you don't,” Ven quickly informed him. “You can't help that any more than I can... And it's like... it's normal to think about this stuff. Most people have done it way before two years together.”

That was true... but Terra might have argued that most people didn't have such a gap between their ages. But, if he could put that aside for a minute...

He wasn't _oblivious_. An argument could be made against that point, but Terra didn't think he was. Most people in a long-term relationship would have done _something_ if not sleep together, regardless of many factors. If they could keep things private, someone in their position might've just gone ahead and hid from the law.

But it wasn't honestly the law that concerned Terra. It was _Ven_ – he didn't want to do anything when he thought he was prepared for it, only for Ven to later discover that he hadn't been.

“... I guess... Does that mean we're ready?” Hastily, Terra tacked on, “I still don't think we should go _all the way_ until you're eighteen, but...”

“I know,” he agreed, flushed, “but maybe we don't have to wait until I'm eighteen for _everything_...”

This was a mortifying conversation to have. Still, this was the most intrigued he'd ever been. “What sort of things are okay?”

Ven went scarlet alarmingly fast. “I-I don't know exactly what there is... I'm not gonna ask, like, Roxas or something.”

“I'd rather no one in your family knew,” Terra said immediately, then kind of wished he could just hit himself. “That sounded bad-... I mean...” he sighed, hesitant. “... I kind of feel like anything I do would be... taking advantage. Kissing is one thing...”

Chewing his lip, Ven held back the impulse to tell him that he _wasn't_ – Terra might not believe him if he spoke too soon.

Wait... It was Terra. He'd believe it, actually.

Still, he didn't want to just wave his concerns away. “... I'm not gonna say I'm an adult already, or anything like that... I know I'm not yet, and there's a lot I still need to figure out. I'm not even sure if I'm _ready_ yet, for the full thing, anyway. But I feel like I'm ready to _be_ ready, if that makes any sense?”

“... Maybe. I think so.” Thinking with a boner was hard. “... Would you want to try... something, then? I wouldn't want to until I read up a bit... Make sure I do it right...”

“I want to try.” Ven cleared his throat, almost taken aback by his own boldness. “I never really thought about it, but... it makes more sense to try stuff before going all the way. Less chance of it going bad, if we did some stuff before.”

Hold up, new worry. “You... think it'd go bad?”

“No,” Ven shook his head rapidly. “But doing anything the first time is kind of awkward, since you don't know what you're doing yet.”

“Oh-... Right, yeah...”

Terra looked a little less freaked. That was good; if he'd worried too much about it, they might've ended up _never_ doing it.

Ven squirmed a little. “I mean, I've never done _anything_ besides kissing with someone else...”

All the more embarrassed, Terra tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Neither have I...”

“Oh,” he blinked. Ven had sort of just _assumed_ there'd been someone in Terra's past... Even though they'd been friends for ages, he supposed he would have been too young to tell if Terra had lost his virginity as a teenager.

“You're... kind of the first for everything.”

He was kind of... amused. “Really?”

Terra reddened. “Well, yeah, who else would there have been?”

“It's not my business to ask,” Ven shrugged.

“I would've told you anyway...” Terra shook his head. “But we're kind of getting away from the point...”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned sheepishly.

“Doing things...”

“Uh-huh.”

“Would we be, uh. Naked?” Terra swallowed.

Ven looked a little blank. “What, like right now? But the pizza guy...”

“ _No_ – no, I mean, when we do stuff.”

“ _Oh_ ,” he understood. “Yeah. Duh.”

For some reason, that wasn't the answer Terra expected. “Really? That's okay?”

“Well, yeah,” Ven's grin was lopsided, resisting the urge to laugh. He didn't want to sound like he was mocking him. “It'd be kind of hard to do it without being naked.”

On the verge of overloading, Terra gave himself a second to figure out how he felt about that. The most nudity he saw was in movies... “Should we maybe... Do that before we _do_ things? Get the awkwardness out of the way? _After_ pizza,” he clarified, just in case Ven's concerns about the delivery guy came up again.

“Just like... sit around naked?” Ven tilted his head. Terra kind of wanted to bury his face.

“I mean... just see each other. Naked. For the first time.”

He considered it. “Wouldn't that be kind of weird, right after dinner?”

“Maybe? I guess...” Terra tried to think. Honestly, he was kind of afraid that he'd stop knowing what to _do_ , if he saw Ven undressed and then was expected to touch him... “We could do it later, or right before... Or some other time...”

“Maybe another time,” Ven decided. “Like in the change rooms or something.”

“ _Not_ in the change rooms.” That felt weird.

“... The... shower?”

“... Maybe...”

“It makes more sense to be naked there.”

As true as that was, Terra still thought something might short-circuit if he saw Ven both nude _and_ soaking wet. Awkward and not really sure how to keep going about this conversation, Terra nonetheless tried to steer them back.

“We still haven't talked about...” he trailed off, hoping Ven would catch his drift.

“About what?”

No such luck.

“... What we're actually gonna _do_. Or not do.”

“Oh, uh...” Ven bit his lip. “I was thinking we'd start like we were just now and kind of... see where it goes?”

Terra didn't have any better ideas. That seemed to have been on the cusp of working, anyway... Ven had been responsive, at least. That meant he'd been doing _something_ right.

“... Okay. Cool.”

“And whenever we want to stop, we just say so,” Ven looked at Terra, who nodded. “Then... is that good?”

“I guess so...” Terra exhaled. This wasn't really so big of a deal. Plenty of people did sexual stuff with their boyfriends, and being among that number... It wasn't all that intimidating. “... What do you wanna do now?”

“... Cake?”

Relaxing, Terra reached for their plates. “Okay, but I actually get to start eating some now.”

“Should I feed it to you, now?” Ven teased.

“I dunno, would you get distracted and hog it all?”

“Only when you aren't looking.”

“Then I'll have to watch you like a hawk,” Terra sat back fondly, letting Ven take both plates and arrange them on his lap. Anything that might have kept them from resting perfectly flat had, thankfully, died down... although that didn't mean Terra felt any less overheated.

With a laugh, Ven scooped up a forkful of the untouched cake and lifted it up to Terra's mouth, and the icing tasted a lot like Ven, not-coincidentally.

Heat or no heat, at least it didn't feel like anything had _changed_.

There was just a kind of... buzz, in the air.

 

* * *

 

Riku was only kind of half-listening.

Talk about inconsiderate, because the rather expansive and emotional family up front were all in various heightened states – weepy, angry, kind of sleepy – as they talked about finding a woman practically comatose and rushing her to the hospital. The woman in question was in tears, holding her husband's hand during his account of her hospital stay, where he woke her with a kiss and knew from that moment on that they would get her into rehab and she would be alright.

This far into therapy, Riku figured the concept of a big group 'Family Day' was kind of lost on him. He didn't think it even really _applied_ , and as such as it was a bit awkward. All around him were other recovering addicts with their mothers and fathers, husbands or wives...

And there Riku was, with Sora.

An increasingly fidgety Sora, as he was slipping into restlessness and distraction the more strangers' stories he had to listen to. Riku _got it_ , in theory; this was a nice opportunity for the loved ones to see how recovery was coming along and to network support systems, stuff like that.

But Sora had been anticipating more opportunities to talk to Riku, and Riku... He'd heard all of it before in previous group sessions.

At least this wasn't nearly as emotionally taxing as the last few visits. Riku was on a steady incline, but that didn't make dredging up his issues and sharing them with Sora any easier. There had also been incidents in which the side-effects of his medication and the withdrawal symptoms had caught up, and Sora had been unable to do anything but watch as Riku crashed. He'd even had to go home early, once, while Riku was almost violently sick, and they hadn't been able to get in touch until the next day.

But Sora was considerably more cheerful this time, and Riku felt like he could've beaten most – if not all – people in a Struggle match right now, so things were looking up.

It was just too bad they couldn't _enjoy_ it, yet. Still a lot more Family Day to sit through, and Sora was undoubtedly pent-up with energy by now.

Yup, there he went, drumming his feet on the floor. Riku nudged him, trying to silently tell him to sit still.

Not even thinking, Sora nudged back.

Riku bit back a snort. Damn it, he was trying to take Family Day seriously, and Sora was declaring war. As if Riku wasn't above that.

He nudged Sora, anyway. Sora flicked Riku's thigh.

It was _on_. Riku grappled for his wrist to keep it still while he flicked him back.

“ _Ow_...” Sora wrestled for his arm, conscientiously only whispering. Riku almost smirked, half-turning towards him to fight back.

They were on the verge of a slap-fight when people around them started clapping. Riku promptly joined them, a little pink, and Sora applauded emphatically to compensate for the fact he hadn't been paying the slightest attention.

Riku leaned in to his shoulder, murmuring, “You'll get us in trouble, you know.”

“You pushed me _first_.”

“I was getting your attention.”

“Sure you were.”

“I was, you were fidgeting.”

At the front, Flora was getting up from her seat, taking the podium. She had to raise her voice to be heard throughout the whole room. “Thank you very much for sharing that, Ferdinand... One of the tactics I'd like to try exploring with you all now is the idea of 'putting yourself in the other person's shoes' – roleplay...”

With half an ear out, Sora pointed to the rather cheesy and vaguely melodramatic posters lining the walls. “Hey, Riku, have you seen these?”

They were just about the only thing to look at that wasn't bare walls and tired faces. Out of boredom, Sora had been reading each one repeatedly.

“A hundred times...”

“Riku?” Sternly, Flora singled them out, spotting the pair of them huddling and muttering. “Would you and Sora like to demonstrate?”

“Huh-?” Riku sat up straighter. Sora froze with his cheeks puffed out, having been mid-way through an impression of a pouting cherub-cheeked child featured on one of the posters.

“We haven't heard from you yet, today. Come up front, please, we'll have you two demonstrate roleplay.” Flora addressed the group. “If you can take on the role of your loved one and have a conversation, you may develop some insight as to why they're acting in ways you didn't previously understand.”

“Uh...” Staring at Riku, Sora started to get to his feet. Hesitant, Riku did the same.

“I'm not much of an actor...”

“Give it a try,” Flora didn't leave room for argument.

“I guess we go up to the front?” Sora muttered uncertainly. Seeing no other choice, Riku ran a hand through his hair in discomfort, taking the 'stage', which was actually just a clear space up front of all the chairs.

“Sora and Riku will take on roles as each other, and have a discussion about Riku's drug use and the affect it's had on his friends,” Flora nodded encouragingly, and prompted, “Boys, if you would?”

Now that he was actually up here, Sora stood apart from him and started concocting a thousand devious ways to _be_ Riku. The first obvious thing to do was to stand as tall as he could and brush his spikes back, in an impression of Riku's long hair.

Riku narrowed his eyes at him. He caught on quick.

When neither of them immediately said anything, Flora assumed they were being shy. “Go ahead, this isn't about how well you act.”

Heaving a sigh, Riku figured he'd have to begin. “Okay... Riku...”

Sora put on his best 'cool' voice, which sounded kind of like he was trying to impersonate a classic movie anti-hero with a cold. “Yeah? ... Sora?”

He crossed his arms, clearing his throat to pitch his voice up – because if that's how they were going to play it, Riku was going to _fucking sell_ it. “Wow, Riku, if you were under so much pressure being perfect, you should've told me!”

Sora almost laughed out loud – there was no _way_ that was what he sounded like, Riku sounded like a cartoon. Two could play at that game. He turned his head sharply to stare into a corner, broodingly.

“I couldn't let you see me like that, Sora. I had to keep it secret – even from... my best friend ever.” Sora bit into his lip, closing his eyes in exaggerated suffering. Brooding suffering.

If he wasn't tempted to laugh, Riku might have glared. Instead he started tugging at Sora's arm, prodding him incessantly. “But I'm like the _best_ secret keeper!” he was speaking at a decibel he never would have, normally. “I want to help even though I'm totally scared of your mom!”

“ _No_ , I have to do everything myself,” Sora almost tore himself away, refusing to look at him. “I won't say it even when I need help because I'm just _so cool_.”

“You _are_ cool, Riku. Way cooler than me.” As he tried to mess up his hair to mimic Sora's spikes – unsuccessfully, it just fell right back into place – Riku jutted out his lower lip and tried to sound Sora-stern. “But you know what's not cool? _Drugs_.”

Flora began to look disapproving as some of their audience giggled.

“You wouldn't _understand,_ ” Sora bit into his knuckles. _Broodingly_. Riku dropped to his knees and tugged at Sora's arm.

“Tell me everything anyway, so I can save you from all your problems even if they're really complicated!” Riku tried to whine.

“No, Sora, you're just too precious to me!” He was screwing up his expression to keep from laughing. “I must protect you, even from... _myself_.”

Riku's head tilted forward against his leg, suppressing his snickers and trying to make it look like he was crying instead. “But Riku, I can fix everything! I just have to be your best friend _harder_ until love makes all the hard parts of your life go away!”

“Boys,” Flora, unimpressed, tried to interject. “I'd like you to try doing this seriously.”

Unfortunately, Sora cried out practically over top of her, “I'm too dark and mysterious to ever be loved. Just _go_ , Sora, before I hurt you any more. I must be alone forever.”

“No! I'll never let go and we'll be together forever! I already have our whole best-friend-future planned!”

“ _Boys_.”

Abruptly, Sora broke character. “Oh my god, Riku, I so don't sound like that!”

Riku lifted his head and snorted. “And I do?”

“That was the best acting I've ever done.”

“That was _ridiculous_ , I'd never say -”

“ _Riku. Sora_ ,” Flora snapped, and they stopped. “I think that's enough for now, you can take your seats.” She sighed, displeased with the turn her exercise had taken, but at least they'd lightened the mood. Sora couldn't help laughing now, offering Riku a hand up. He accepted with a sheepish chuckle.

“I think the _basic understanding_ came across,” she sighed again. “Let's return to formula and hear from loved ones... Are there volunteers?”

They made their way back to the seats they'd vacated, and Riku muttered, “I don't preen my hair like that. _You_ do.”

“I did your hair way better than you did mine,” Sora hissed back.

“Your hair's _impossible_...”

Flora welcomed a man named Eric up to the front. Riku and Sora both took their seats, but they were in a _mood_ now; Sora was having a hard time calming down and Riku almost snickered for no reason, very inappropriately, as Eric was starting to talk about his wife's alcoholism.

As he recounted how things started with his drunken girlfriend doing things that were odd, but not _serious_ , such as brushing her hair with forks and talking to their fish, Riku got a very vivid image of Sora trying to sort out his wild spikes with utensils. He bit into a knuckle, determined not to call attention to himself.

Sora glanced over and whispered, “Told you, you do that.”

Riku hit his leg and snickered into his fist. Sora grinned broadly and pinched him in return.

Eric went on to the time that he noticed that Ariel would just _take_ things from restaurants, stores, or people when she was drunk, and recounted discovering that she had a whole room dedicated to trinkets when they'd moved in together. He was getting emotional, sharing his first time wondering whether or not Ariel had a problem.

And there was Riku, catching Sora's finger to prevent him from using it against him, and getting his palm tickled for his trouble. He was only able to bear Sora's wiggling for so long before letting go, trying to keep a straight face.

Sora was a little flushed in his attempts to keep himself under control, and began to tune in again. Eric was talking about their honeymoon at the beach, when he'd found Ariel one morning still so drunk that her legs wouldn't stop wobbling long enough to support her, and her slur was so bad she couldn't really speak at _all_.

He snorted audibly, by accident, when Eric mentioned her toppling into the water – it reminded him of a time when they were younger, when Riku was goofing around on the docks and fell into the water (though, yeah, maybe Sora had had something to do with that)... And now he was picturing present-day Riku doing the same thing, only naked and wrapped in a sheet.

“Shh,” Riku nudged him, trying to tell him off. Instead Sora gripped his arm, starting to shake with contained laughter.

“Riku...” he spoke lowly, urgently, as though to tell him something very important. “ _Riku_...”

“ _What?_ ” he hissed back, close to laughter again just because _Sora_ was.

Almost wheezing, Sora put his head down on his shoulder. “ _Dinglehopper_.”

Riku's snort was shockingly loud. “ _What?!_ ” he whispered, but it was too late; they'd finally drawn the attention of Nurse Merryweather, whose face clouded as she bustled down the row.

“Dinglehopper!” Sora hissed louder and collapsed into nonsensical snickers.

Nurse Merryweather seemed just about ready to burst, hardly needing to bend to reach them. She had the distinct air of telling them off, even though her voice was kept considerately lowered, unlike _some_ people. “Would you two like to be excused?!”

Red from both suppressed laughter and embarrassment, Riku nodded quickly. “Sorry, we'll go calm down...”

“Yeah, I just... need a minute...” Sora gasped for breath, getting to his feet. Riku took Sora's hand and headed out of the room, determinedly keeping composure for as long as he could. Sora's cheeks were puffed out with restraint, sure he was doomed to explode very soon.

They practically jogged out. The door shut behind them.

“ _Pfft!_ ”

Sora sputtered and broke down laughing uncontrollably, Riku very poorly covering his snickers with his free hand.

“You _jerk_...” Riku was breathless in his attempt to control himself, laughing.

“I couldn't help it!”

“I've got to see these people in group therapy later!” Riku didn't actually seem upset in the least.

“It'll be fine! You can tell them it was all my fault.”

“I planned on it,” he grinned.

“Like you weren't just as bad!”

“Hey, you said it yourself. I'm too cool for that.”

“Yeah,” Sora swatted his arm, “you _act_ like it.”

“Maybe _you_ think so,” Riku snorted.

“And I don't give lame speeches like that.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I only make important speeches.”

“They're _all_ lame.”

Sora grabbed his arm, shaking him a little. “You take that back.”

Riku smirked. “Never.”

“Take it back!” He launched at him, wrestling Riku under his arm, who immediately grappled back.

“ _No_.”

One of the security guards immediately spotted the ruckus, striding towards them quickly. “Hey, no roughhousing.”

Through gritted teeth, Sora was trying to wrestle his friend into submission, protesting, “My. Speeches. Aren't. La-... hey!” at the reprimand, he sprang away from Riku, who quickly stood up properly. “Sorry, just messing around!”

“Sorry-...” Riku was briefly paranoid Sora was about to be kicked out.

“Are you heading back in soon?” The security guard glanced between the two of them, then at the Rec Hall door. Riku hesitated.

“... I think we should probably be excused. We're having trouble, uh... focusing.”

Sora snorted, covering it badly. “Yeah, we should take a break.”

“Is it alright to just hang out in my room...?”

The guard considered the two of them. “Door open.”

“He knows the rules, he's visited before,” Riku nodded.

“Thanks!” Catching Riku's hand, Sora started to lead the way.

He waited until they were well out of earshot before muttering, amused, “I bet I'm in trouble.”

“If you're getting into trouble, you must be getting better,” Sora declared cheerfully.

Riku grinned. “Makes sense to _me_.”

“So it's a good thing. Maybe they'll let you go home sooner!”

“I hope so...” Riku squeezed his hand. “I miss you.”

Those were probably the words most often spoken to each other, but Sora was never less pleased to hear them. “I miss you, too...” he was quiet for a moment. “Have you... figured out what you're going to do yet?”

“... Yeah. Now it's just working up the courage.”

“Yeah...?”

Now was as good a time as any; Riku was pretty sure his decision was obvious, anyway. “I'm moving out... I won't fight them for the car or my bank account. I just want to get out.”

Regardless of what that meant for Riku's recovery – lots of good things, Sora was positive about that – he looked worried. “You're sure?”

They'd reached Riku's room, and he overtook the lead, hand still wrapped around Sora's. “I want my _freedom_... I want to be able to do what I want, date who I want...”

Sora squeezed a little. “That's a good reason.”

“Which... leads me to you,” Riku sat on his bed. Sora joined him.

“You need a place to go, right?”

“Yeah,” he balked. “If it's still okay...”

“Duh, it's okay,” Sora grinned.

“... So we'd live together,” Riku was starting to blush.

“Yeah. I mean, with my parents and brothers, too, but...”

“But I'd be living with my boyfriend.” It made him kind of jittery saying that, like he should expect one hell of a shitstorm to roll in as though summoned, but nothing bad happened. If anything, it made him feel a little bit lighter.

It felt good to say, and Sora's broad grin could have parted even the worst clouds.

“That's-... yeah, that's true.”

“... We move fast, considering we haven't done anything more than kiss...” Riku observed.

Sora laughed, starting to turn pink. “Um, speaking of moving fast...”

That sure was a way to start a sentence. Riku almost choked, and cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“Well,” he fidgeted, foot tapping against the floor, “we're going to be sharing a bedroom now and all...”

“That's, uh. True.” Unconsciously, Riku leaned a little closer to him.

“Obviously we don't have to do anything more than kissing... This is really new...”

“'Course,” Riku agreed quickly.

“But if you _want_ to...” Unwillingly, Sora was reminded that Riku had gone further with a guy than _he_ ever had, but that thought could just march its way out of Welcome Town because no one had invited it in.

“Maybe... I don't want to rush anything,” Riku glanced away. “This is kind of new territory for me.”

Not sex. Even gay sex didn't worry him so much. Couldn't be that far off in execution, and Roxas had seemed to like it well enough, even though he'd _never_ treat Sora like Roxas and ugh, he wished he hadn't even thought of that.

A _relationship_ was new.

“It's not like I've done this before either,” Sora reminded him.

“... Then... should we just figure it out as we go?”

Sora leaned a little closer. “That sounds good...”

“For now...” Riku tilted his head slightly. “Kissing is okay, right...?”

“Are you kidding? Kissing's awesome.” Especially kissing Riku. That was double-awesome. Maybe even triple-awesome.

“Yeah, it really is...” he grinned, and closed the gap.

They were kissing and Sora was shifting closer to him, running a hand down to his waist. Riku promptly forgot what they'd been talking about and deepened it immediately.

They were past the 'getting used to this' stage. Kissing had become a consistent visiting activity, though without the constant bustle just outside the open door, it felt a little more intimate this time around. Sora gently grazed his tongue, enjoying the now-familiar taste of him, and Riku wrapped one arm around Sora. All of his weight was braced against the other as he got as close as he possibly _could_ get without just climbing on top of him. Pleased, Sora brought his free hand up into Riku's hair.

Riku started snickering against his lips.

He pulled back. “What?”

“Popped into my head-...” Riku tried not to laugh more. “Dinglehopper-...”

Sora spluttered, putting his hand up just in time to keep from spraying his face.

“This is _your_ fault...” Riku chuckled, resting his forehead against Sora's.

“But _dinglehopper_...” he snorted, dropping his hand. The two of them were still snickering as Riku resumed dappling kisses against his lips.

Steadily, they got back into the rhythm of kissing properly, and both of Sora's hands went to his hips this time. Riku started to get carried away enough to withdraw his arm and run his hand down Sora's leg.

“Mm...” Sora's pleased noise was low, soft; he was kind of tingling. Riku squeezed gently, brushing his upper lip with his tongue before he started kissing him more firmly. Sora sighed happily, hardly noticing that he was all but crawling into Riku's lap.

He kind of... accidentally encouraged Sora the rest of the way, hand roving up his back, and Sora's hands just barely brushed up under his shirt. That was probably the best idea ever, one Riku promptly drew inspiration from.

His hand curled in his shirt, inching it up just a little for Riku to slip his hand underneath and run it along his bare back instead. Sora's moan was a little louder than necessary, and Riku's first thought _should_ have been one of concern over being caught, not... intrigue, over being caught.

There was just... something kind of _nice_ about the idea that he could make Sora react like this, that Sora loved him and trusted him despite everything they'd been through, enough to allow Riku to touch him. And that he didn't seem to care who knew it. Riku wasn't hiding from everyone, anymore, so he might as well let the whole world know that only he was making Sora feel good.

Riku arched against him a little bit, hand brazenly slipping down over his ass. Sora, not having completely forgotten that this was against rehab rules, was a tiny bit jolted... But his brain had already put it to a vote and the majority wanted to keep doing things to make Riku keep pressing against him.

“Mn-... Riku...”

“Sora...” he trailed kisses down to his throat, wanting to _feel_ him so much more. Sora shivered, tilting his head to give him more room.

“Should we... probably not be...”

“M-hm...” Riku's kisses were distinctly contradictory, kind of thrilled now by the idea of being caught, as much as the prospect was also mortifying.

The potential 'let's slow this down' suggestion kind of failed on him as Sora moaned again. “That feels really, _really_ good...”

“Mm-... You're...” his lips went as low as they could go before meeting his shirt, a little overheated. “This is good...”

One of Sora's hands found its way back into Riku's hair, massaging his scalp. Riku nuzzled his throat as he worked his way back up and sucked gently, lulled by the treatment.

“Nngh-...” This room was way too warm. Would it be frowned upon if Sora shrugged out of his shirt? Riku was already slyly pushing it up, running his hand over wherever he could reach, and Sora's breath caught audibly. His fingers tightened until he was tugging, just a little, brain a pleasant fog – he wanted nothing more than to push them both down onto the bed, tangle up with him, and keep doing this forever.

“ _Mm_...” Riku drew back just enough to murmur, “Don't pull more than that, okay?”

“Mn, okay... Sorry...”

Riku started to shift so that they were side by side on the bed, forgetting the rule about not lying down with each other, and his legs wrapped up in Sora's. One arm, trapped under Sora, curled around him while the other hand felt up his chest, and he arched into Riku's touch, hands going to his shoulder and around Riku's waist.

They kissed properly again, more heated, and Sora grabbed a handful of his shirt to start dragging it up. _That_ was better – Sora groaned upon feeling bare skin against his own.

That was pretty much the end of all thought processes. They'd merrily run right off the track. Riku rolled over top of him, shifting to press his hips against Sora's and making him shiver – they were both half-hard and eager to get some sort of stimulation, Sora rolling up against him with an emphatic moan.

Breathless and hushed, Riku broke the kiss and slid his hand down. “If you can keep quiet, I could...”

He skimmed Sora's stomach as though about to delve under his pants, which was like, _whoa_.

Sora sat up sharply. “Whoa-... Riku, the _door's open_.”

He reddened but grinned. “Yeah, but everyone's in group.”

Well, when he put it that way...

Sora blushed darkly. Wait, he couldn't just _agree_ , not _everyone_ was in group. “What about security, o-or nurses?”

“They're probably all around -” 'the lobby', was the end of that sentence. Riku didn't get to finish it. Indeed, he didn't get to finish anything.

“Sitting up, if you don't mind!” A different security guard was patrolling and called out sharply to them, and Riku bolted straight back off the bed, the most brilliant shade of vermilion to ever be seen on a human face.

Sora sat up, yanking his shirt down – nothing he could do about the visible hard-on, or the steam probably coming out of his ears.

“Sorry!” Riku almost stammered. “Won't happen again...”

The guard raised an eyebrow and continued patrolling. Sora buried his face.

“Oh my _god_ , Riku.”

He exhaled, sliding down the wall. “... Okay, so, you were right...” he admitted weakly. Probably not a huge consolation, but it damn well should have been.

Sora's voice was muffled. “Am I gonna get you in trouble because of this?”

“Not that much trouble... Not like we were doing anything bad...” Riku buried his face, almost laughing for reasons beyond him.

Sora's cheeks filled with air, and embarrassed laughter burst out of them.

Riku started to snicker helplessly, barely audible. “That was so humiliating...”

Shoulders hunched and shaking with more guffaws, Sora piped down a little and suggested, “Maybe... we could try again once you're not here?”

Face still hot, Riku lifted his head and grinned despite himself. “... Yeah. To celebrate.”

Sora was just as flushed. “Sounds good.”

He was almost hesitant to ask, but Riku kind of had to, now that the intimacy had passed. “... If we hadn't been caught... Were you actually okay with me just-?”

“Dude, I wanted that _so_ bad... I still kind of do,” Sora confessed, full of mirth. “But not right now.”

Riku almost doubled over, dragging a hand through his hair. “Oh man, me too...” He hardly believed that his erection hadn't flagged yet. He tried to will it away.

“Gotta think un-sexy things...” Sora was trying to do the same, face scrunched in concentration.

Riku started to laugh harder as Sora dissolved into relentless giggles, the two of them thinking of the exact same thing. He dropped back onto the bed, almost gasping with laughter, as Riku collapsed against his knees while his sides started to hurt.

“Dinglehoppers. Dinglehoppers are _not_ sexy.”


	15. Breaking Like a Plate Glass Window

They didn't see much of each other, following their banishment from the theater. Axel walked away bemoaning that he'd have to start driving across the city to see movies on their release dates, and Roxas had needed to keep his sprained pinky wrapped up for a few days while it recovered.

It'd been an unwise move to try diffusing the tension with air hockey. Lesson learned.

However, with that avenue blocked off to them, hanging out was kind of taxing just to _think_ about. Neither of them had any ideas about what they could do together, and Roxas was being kept irritatingly busy anyway; work, school, work to get _into_ a school, applications, more applications... Bursaries, scholarships, they were being researched at a kind of frantic pace, needing as much money as possible to make up for the hit his bank account had taken.

There was also a dry spell to deal with, having no time even for casual hook-ups, and that affected Roxas's mood in... unpleasant ways.

They at least texted each other, on occasion, but never for very long and rarely was it much more than a 'What's up?' followed by, 'Oh, that sucks.' Axel's financial situation wasn't dire, but it was on the verge of becoming so as his courses started to crack down on him. He was losing out on shifts, and it took a lot of groveling to convince Cid to rearrange the entire schedule just to accommodate his rent cheque.

Axel was starting to think that their friendship was just going to taper off, leaving him bitterly angry at himself and depressed over the situation as a whole, when the cycle was broken into thousands of grainy, irreparable pieces.

_[Stupid Sexy Roxas. 5:39 PM] 'i want to check out the HBU campus and i get off work at 6. are you free?'_

_[Stupid Sexy Roxas. 5:39 PM] 'it's fine if you're not. I could use a guide is all'_

Coincidentally, Axel was also working until six o'clock. The fates had aligned, heavens had opened, the Hallelujah chorus was sweet.

No way in hell would Axel turn down the opportunity for hanging out with _purpose_.

There was just one issue, but it was a little thing. Probably wouldn't even matter.

_[Axel. 5:41 PM] 'Sure. I could pick you up, if you want.'_

_[Stupid Sexy Roxas. 5:41 PM] 'awesome see you after 6.'_

Yeah, that was where the problem might literally arise.

Cid didn't impose a dress code, and the life of a delivery boy was travel. Naturally, the best material to straddle a motorcycle in was leather... And it felt a little ridiculous to make Roxas wait an extra half hour or so for Axel to make a pit stop at home, change, and come back.

But it wasn't like Roxas was so hard-up that he'd pop one over some leather pants. There was a kink there, sure, but they wouldn't wind up sleeping together just because Axel hadn't dressed himself more modestly.

So Axel just went straight there, and pulled up in front of the call center about a quarter after six. Roxas was waiting none-too-patiently, watching the sky darken and rubbing his hands together to warm his extremities.

He'd sent his parents a text immediately once his shift ended, letting them know that he was going to investigate schools. That much _was_ true. However, Hollow Bastion was the only one he'd decided to get a personal tour of, and maybe that was just an excuse to see Axel but no one could ever prove that. It was still his top choice school, after all. Maybe.

The familiar roar of a bike made Roxas swivel and his stomach drop. Axel pulled up, idling the engine and removing his helmet to hear him. That was, technically speaking, illegal. Whatever. It was just going to be for like, a minute.

“Hey.”

Roxas stared. Pretty blatantly, because he hadn't expected the leather coat, or the leather pants, and he'd been nothing but neglectful to his needs over the past while. He scanned Axel, and want warred with sensibility.

It was a little late to turn down the ride, but... getting on the motorcycle was a questionable decision, now.

“Hey,” he accepted the spare helmet Axel offered. “I'm good to go.”

“Alright,” he scooted up a bit, giving Roxas some room to get on. Putting the helmet on in practiced motions, Roxas attempted not to _touch_ any more than he needed to, and the gravity of their mistake hit Axel like a club over the head.

The vibration of the bike was at the forefront of his mind, and Roxas was at the backside.

Would it be a dick move to kick him off and make Roxas take the bus?

... Yeah, it really would...

Axel inhaled deeply as Roxas's arms wrapped around him. “This is gonna suck.”

Thankfully, he wasn't audible over the engine, the sound of which was getting to Roxas in a very intimate way. The vibration, the leather, Axel's warmth – those were a deadly combination that sent wonderful jolts between his legs, and over the course of the drive...

Roxas was having a harder time remembering why he felt so guilty about sex with Axel.

Axel at least had driving to focus on, and Roxas's proximity eventually stopped being the incessant distraction it threatened to be. He pulled into the student parking lot, his favorite spot open now that the peak class hours were over with. He carefully parked the bike and removed his helmet.

So... He'd only tentatively call that a success. Their first time seeing each other in a while, and he was only semi-hard. Yeah, Roxas's breathing was a little heavy, but maybe he was just winded. Axel started to removing his helmet and managed to ignore the discomfort between his legs.

As the case was, no, Roxas wasn't winded, and he wasn't having nearly so easy a time ignoring it.

Getting up and locking up his helmet – and all the while avoiding looking right at Roxas, that'd just exacerbate things – Axel exhaled and began, “So...”

No response.

“Rox...?”

“I can't...”

Axel froze, heat rushing right down. He was muffled by the helmet, but Roxas's voice had the same tone he moaned in.

“Shit.”

He was actually too hard to get off of the bike and walk properly. Shakily removing the helmet, Roxas exhaled, darkly flushed. “Fuck, I can't not-want you...”

Their last meetings had been peppered with tension and Roxas just _couldn't_ get through that again. Every time he _texted_ Axel, he was on the verge of doing something stupid; asking for a picture just to tide him over, sending him one to rile him up, reminding Axel of what it felt like inside him, wondering if he still thought about how well the two of them fucked.

He was screwed. And if he could just... _be_ screwed, maybe that'd be fine, he'd deal with it later.

Axel's mouth had gone dry, licking his lips absently. “I can-...” Oh, fuck, he really wanted to touch him. This was ridiculous. This whole _thing_ between them was ridiculous. “Fuck, you're hot.”

“Ax,” Roxas grabbed his shirt and raised his eyes to him. “I _need_ it.”

Fuck it.

“... C'mon,” he pulled Roxas with him, not physically _capable_ of saying no when he _looked_ like that and _sounded_ like that – no one had that kind of willpower, right? No one could blame him for giving in.

They'd gone so long without fucking each other, this could almost be called a reward.

For the first time, Axel wished he lived in a dorm. Where were they even going to _go_...

“Nngh...” Roxas almost tripped over himself, having no idea where they were going and not really caring. Axel had parked nearest to the Science building, as the one he was most familiar with, and thanked his accidental foresight in not taking them to the Main. There would be way too many students still milling around there; down this way were mostly labs and lecture halls... The computer lab and library, only a short jaunt away, but they'd find people there too.

This was fine. Who even cared. The lecture halls would be empty at this hour, anyway.

Axel pulled them into one, the door not yet locked. Roxas was totally alright with the location – it didn't really matter if _he_ was caught here, apart from public indecency, and Axel knew what risk he was taking.

He shut the door. “Are you _sure_ -”

Roxas pulled him down by the collar to shut him up.

The buzz of _kissing_ him after so long was a little dampened by the feeling in Axel's gut, a sort of sinking 'You fucked up' sense, but he missed this. _Fuck_ , he'd missed this. Roxas was too needy to think at all, though if he were capable he might've realized that for ages he'd wanted _this_ , specifically, from Axel.

Yeah, it was better that his brain had shut off. He didn't have time to figure out the implications at work, there.

He parted his lips, influencing Axel's to do the same, and Roxas was pushed towards the wall as the kiss was frantically deepened.

“ _Mm_...” Roxas's back arched from the wall, rolling his body against Axel's to keep him flush against it. Damn it, Roxas wanted to be stripped, there was so much leather and so much _Axel_ and he couldn't feel either adequately. His clothes were the most obnoxious invention ever.

Grinding against Roxas, Axel broke the kiss in the hopes of hearing him moan and was rewarded. Roxas's head tilted, craned up to rest against his jaw and shivering.

“ _Damn_...”

“God, you feel good...” Axel's hands ran down, and Roxas moved with them, arching into every point of contact.

“Fuck, I want you...” Quietly, he moaned, fingers tracing his covered chest. “Oh my god...”

Yeah, this wasn't good enough. Grasping Roxas by the hips, Axel hoisted him to pin to the wall with his legs up, kissing him firmly to explore his mouth from a different angle. Roxas's legs hooked around him and held tight, leaning down to meet his lips.

He drew Axel's lower lip into his mouth and sucked. Axel couldn't tell which one of them groaned. It was probably both.

Axel's hips were rutting against Roxas, he was rocking back -

“Need clothes off,” Roxas almost gasped as he pulled away from the kiss, kind of ordering him. Axel immediately started on stripping them both, despite that little oft-ignored voice telling him that this was a _school_ they were in.

“Can't take too much off...”

“Whatever...” Roxas couldn't do much to help, in his position. He just rearranged his arms as Axel pulled his shirt off him, lamented the loss of the leather jacket, celebrated the bare expanse of his chest being revealed.

Axel had to let him down properly to unzip his own pants, but then paused. “... Want me to leave 'em on?”

Almost sheepishly, Roxas bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah...”

Smirking, he tilted Roxas's chin to lean down and nip his earlobe – there was that scar he'd mentioned, what the fuck, Sora? - and Axel lowered his voice. “Alright, I can do that for you. These come off, though...”

He gripped between Roxas's legs before starting to get his pants out of the way. Roxas's breath caught with a shudder, just as much affected by the grab as the roughness to his voice.

He couldn't get his pants off nearly fast enough.

“God, can't get over your voice...”

Snickering, Axel nipped his throat, letting Roxas's khakis fall and running one hand over his bare erection.

“Nn...” As tempting as it was to stay right there, let Axel jack him off until he came embarrassingly loud, there was no way Roxas was going to settle for that. He pulled away from the wall and took Axel's hand, needing to step on his shoes to pry his feet out of them and his pants.

“Hm...?” Axel paused, letting Roxas lead him.

Curious, Roxas turned around to slide back onto one of the desks. “Never done it like this...”

Compelled to kiss him, Axel leaned over and nipped his lower lip. “Want to make it kinky? Teacher-student roleplay? Not that I've ever seen a teacher who dresses like I do...”

“Could either of us take it seriously that long?” Roxas brought his legs up onto the desk, spreading them.

“No,” Axel smirked. “But I'll talk the whole time.”

One warm hand was running over his arousal methodically, and Roxas tilted his head back in blissful consideration. “That's hard to resist...”

“Might do that anyway, hard to keep a censor on myself...”

Roxas sat up more as Axel started to stroke him, slinging his arms around his neck to kiss him. Briefly, because he couldn't make it last when there'd been a promise of more talking. Axel purred as Roxas's mouth roved along his neck instead, hips dragged forward so he could grind between them.

God, the heat was making his head spin and there was smooth leather against his thighs. Roxas moaned.

“ _Fuck_ I wish I had lube,” Axel muttered roughly, grinding against him harder.

“Ugh, I usually have it with me...” Why hadn't he brought lube to work?! Roxas hadn't bothered carrying any for a while, not with his dry spell in effect, and that was _stupid_ of him.

“Won't go all the way, but I can work with this...” he rut against him once more time to tide him over before getting down onto his knees. Immediately, Roxas sat up to follow with his hands and finding a place in his hair. He didn't want to stop touching, possibly ever.

Axel's own hands ran up his legs, getting comfortable between them and swallowing the head without preamble. He started to stroke the shaft while he was busy tonguing the crown, bathing him in pure heat.

“Need to get somewhere with lube after this...” Roxas's fingers tightened, rubbing circles into his scalp. “Can't go without you...”

“ _Mn_...” Whatever Roxas wanted or said, it was all fucking good by him. Anything that made him grip like that. Axel opened his mouth wider and relaxed his throat, taking him in, and got exactly what he wanted – Roxas gripped harder, head falling back with a sharp inhale.

Yes, _fuck_ yes, why had he ever thought he could live without this? Axel sucked mercilessly, rolling his tongue every time he pulled back to the tip.

Roxas nearly lost his balance. “ _God_ , you are good at that...”

Axel purred, the vibration going right through his cock to every nerve in his body. Deliriously trying to urge him to do _more_ – not that he knew what 'more' they could do, here – Roxas tugged. One of his legs was promptly hefted up over Axel's shoulder, and his fingers glided up and under him.

Roughness had to be rewarded. That's what Axel would've claimed, but really he just wanted to see Roxas lose his mind. Lucky thing there was a way to get to his g-spot without having to be inside him.

And Roxas let him _know_ when he found that spot against his perineum, loudly groaning his name and trying to pull Axel right to him with hands and his leg – he wasn't going to last unless Axel let up, and he had _no_ intention of doing that. His thumb pressed little circles against that spot, and he hollowed his cheeks, sucking at the tip.

“I'm-...” Roxas practically tore at his hair, cock swallowed to the hilt for his trouble and it was all he could do to force his hips to stay against the desk. “ _Ahh_...”

Axel was sucking gentler and he crashed over the edge, orgasm stealing his strength and breath and leaving him buzzing. He fell back against the desk, grip entirely slack. Hell, he was _shaking_.

He hadn't realized how bad he'd needed that.

Drawing back, Axel licked his lips, not having managed to swallow it all. With one finger, he wiped his mouth and cleaned it off with his tongue. “... Missed how you taste...”

Breathing hard, Roxas stuck one finger up in the air to indicate he'd respond in a minute. Axel smirked, kissing his thigh before standing up.

He looked _high_ , a little glazed over and flushed. Definitely content. Job well done, all around.

Idly, he leaned over him and kissed along his chest and throat, letting him know that they weren't done yet.

Once Roxas was capable, he was completely willing to continue, sitting up with really minor assistance and sliding a hand between Axel's legs.

Rock hard and _so hot_.

“Mn...” Axel nipped him. “More of that'd be good...”

Shifting to sit with his legs dangling over the desk, Roxas's other hand pulled Axel closer by his hips. “You're burning...”

“Yeah...” He didn't think Roxas knew the half of it. He felt like his arousal had lit him on fire, way too close to climax without being anywhere near enough to it at the same time. He sucked and kissed up towards his jaw hungrily, Roxas obligingly tilting his head as he started to stroke him.

Fast, thank god. Almost thank god. He occasionally slowed to tortuously long strokes, like the cruel pent-up bastard he was.

“ _God_ , Rox, you _tease_...”

He snickered quietly, leaning in to kiss up his chest – Roxas sort of would've preferred higher, but he couldn't reach with the way he was sitting – and his hand paused at the head, teasing and dragging over the leaking slit. Axel swore under his breath roughly, one arm wrapped firmly around him.

Here he was, between Roxas's legs, but not the way he'd been dreaming about for _weeks._ If only he could be inside him, while he still couldn't think straight enough to know better...

Roxas scraped his teeth over a peaked nipple and sucked at it when Axel twitched, releasing his hip to trail his hand lightly back over his ass. That was about all Axel could stand before unarguably possessed to kiss him, and he made that happen without the slightest regard for the salt still tainting his tongue.

It wasn't like Roxas really cared. He wanted to kiss Axel. More than this, actually.

The kiss quickly got more intense and demanding and Roxas fell back into stroking him, hand satisfyingly tight around the shaft.

“ _Mmn_...” Axel couldn't breathe anymore, but that wasn't all that important anyway. He was hardly conscious of air, instead focused on pleasure and how _close_ he was...

Heat spiked between them as Roxas practically pulled himself off the desk, legs tightening around his hips and other hand snaking around his shoulders to get as close as he could, and that was all Axel could take.

Nipping his lower lip before he had to break the kiss, he groaned loud and spilled into his hand.

“Rox _as_...”

Even sated, Roxas almost moaned. He fucking loved the way Axel sounded, saying his name.

Warmth washed over Axel's body, weighing him lazily down. He buried his face against Roxas's neck with another devious nip – which took practically all his remaining energy – and exhaled as he came down from his high.

Slowly, Roxas's hand slid away, but his arm stayed around Axel's neck.

“... So...” Axel muttered into his collarbone, steadying his breathing with some trouble, “... that was pretty awesome.”

Roxas lifted Axel's chin enough to kiss him briefly. “ _Yeah_.”

At the risk of his afterglow... Whoever manned the controls of Axel's mind had returned to their post, and had started frantically screaming _'I fucked up, oh shit, I fucked up.'_

“We going to keep doing that, or...?”

There was visible hesitation. Axel hated visible hesitation.

“... _Really_ want to go all the way as soon as we can... but I don't know if we should.”

“We probably shouldn't have even done _this_ ,” he pointed out. It would have been easier to pull away or sound like he meant it if Axel regretted it, even a little.

So far the only thing about this he lamented was the possible stain left on his leather pants. That was so hard to clean.

“It's inevitable,” Roxas sighed, defeated. “We can't be near each other without one of us jumping the other one eventually.”

Well. Okay, yeah, Axel couldn't deny that. He could recognize a pattern when he saw one. “... So, what do we do?”

Hands finally removed from Axel and gripping the desk – they owed the cleaning staff an apology for the sticky mess now on the surface – Roxas tried to think.

Axel hadn't zipped up his pants, yet. With a determined mantra of _don't look at his dick, don't look at his dick, don't look at his dick_ , Roxas found a fixed spot on the floor to stare at and...

Came up with zilch. “I don't know...”

“Might help the decision-making process move along if we aren't... Y'know. On display,” Axel advised. “Clothes?”

He was absolutely right. And in that case, Roxas was going to sneak a quick eyeful before the opportunity was gone.

Axel really _did_ have a nice dick. Nicer when he hadn't just finished with it, but nonetheless.

Okay, he'd looked, now they could move on. “... Probably a good idea.”

Roxas had to deal with the mess on his hand a bit belatedly, winding up having to wipe off the remaining spend on the outside of his boxer-briefs – he was deeply chagrined but there was nowhere _else_ he could do it without being super-obvious – and they redressed hastily.

Which was good timing, because Roxas thought he could hear something outside the door. His head jerked up, eyes wide with paranoia. “Did you hear something?”

“Let's not risk hanging around.” Axel wrestled his shirt back on, attempting not to mess up his hair too much, as though he _hadn't_ already shot that horse in the face the moment he let Roxas get his hands on it. Roxas's own shirt went on inside-out by accident, and they slipped out the door as innocently as possible.

Just students staying late, thank god. Not that they were going to hang around until someone who looked like staff found them, looking sexed up and suspicious. Axel shut the door, letting out a loud breath and clasping his hands together.

“Still want that tour?” he offered, a little concerned that Roxas might bolt without adequate reason to stick around. Roxas blinked.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess I should do what I came here for.”

“And I don't think we can actually talk about this if we get back on my bike, so...”

They started to walk, Roxas blushing a little at the thought. “Probably not...”

Talking about this. This felt so much riskier than Axel, _logically_ , knew it to be... but if they tried dancing around it...

Diving in was probably the smartest thing to do. Dispense with the bullshit. Try not to argue and just be frank, for a change.

“So what the hell do we do?”

Roxas sighed, honestly conflicted. “Fuck if I know. I like hanging out with you. And I can't not have sex with you...”

Axel bit back what was, to him, the obvious solution.

“I'm not used to this,” Roxas muttered, a little hard to hear for the volume.

“... What, liking the guy you sleep with?”

“Pretty much.”

Despite _knowing better_ , Axel gave in to his curiosity. “Is that what's got you so anti-dating, or what?”

Immediately, Roxas was a bit colder. “I never considered dating the guys I hooked up with, even when I started seeing them a lot.”

“Including me,” Axel was quick to nod – fuck, he didn't _want_ to fight, he just wanted to _get it_. “... Sorry for bringing it up. Just still seems obvious, to me. We have awesome sex, I like you, you like... hanging out with me, so... It'd make this a lot less complicated.”

Roxas gave him a flat look. “How has dating ever made things _less_ complicated?”

In return, Axel looked at him strangely. “Plenty of ways? You know where the other person's at way more easily. Like, 'Alright, we like each other, I know who to go to when I'm horny, and I know I can crash at your place afterwards and spend the entire following day wearing your clothes and eating your food.' You don't have to be in love, that doesn't have to be what it's about. No awkward morning-afters, no having to be alone...”

Which was what it really boiled down to, Axel figured. He didn't want to be with Roxas and still feel like he was _alone_.

Roxas smirked slightly, dryly. “That sounds like a fantasy.”

He sighed. “It's how dating's supposed to work, Rox. Whatever you did that made you so anti-relationship, 'dating' wasn't it.”

With nothing to say to that, Roxas just shrugged.

Pressing it wasn't a good idea, anyway, and Axel was starting to hate that he was becoming 'that guy'. The loser, begging the hot piece of ass he liked to date him.

Especially since the hot piece of ass mattered to him. As a whole person, in fact, ass preferred but not required.

“So what do we do? Keep hanging out until we snap, fuck each other senseless, then re-evaluate?” Axel suggested. “Start a never-ending cycle?”

Sighing again, Roxas paused to lean into a wall and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know. I don't understand.”

He was starting to sound genuinely upset, and Axel drop-kicked his 'just date me' stance to the curb as he leaned against the wall beside him.

Confusing as this was for him... Roxas was probably worse off, in that department.

“Well... What do you want?”

“I want things to be like this...” he muttered. “The fucking and hanging out, without all the confusion...”

Sounded like dating, to Axel.

Damn it, hadn't he ditched that thought process? Determined fucker.

“I don't want to involve feelings... deep ones, I mean,” Roxas closed his eyes. “It'll just make it harder when I inevitably have to hurt you.”

“... What do you mean?”

“It's kind of what I do.”

Axel arched an eyebrow. “I'm really going to need some backstory, here.”

“Ugh,” Roxas tilted his head back into the wall. “There's no long story. Being with any one guy long-term just doesn't appeal to me – maybe it would if I was 'in love', I don't know, but I never _will_ know. I get with people, I get sick of them, I need things to change, and then I run away if I can't drive them away first. I just can't... be content.”

Axel considered that silently.

“And it'll happen to you, too,” Roxas glanced at him. “The only thing that's different is that you'll actually give a fuck by then.”

“Hate to break this to you, but I already give a fuck.”

Roxas sighed. “The more I let myself care, the harder I'm going to try to pull away when I can't stand the normalcy anymore.”

“Again, I hate to point this out, but isn't that what you're going to do _anyway,_ then?”

“... I don't know. Probably.”

Axel nodded slowly. “... Then why not date me, do your running-away thing later, and at least we'd have _some_ good times without the confusion?”

It was only in part a suggestion. Mostly, he wanted to know why Roxas hadn't thrown his hands up, said 'fuck it', and gone that route.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I go to school full-time, I work five days a week, I'm applying to six universities, I have friends to try and keep track of and brothers to avoid, and my parents think I'm some virginal wonder-child. You try fitting a boyfriend into there, because I can't.”

“You already _do_. The time we spend hanging out and having sex?” Admittedly, not so much as of late.

“It's different. It's not a commitment or anything...”

“Committing doesn't mean you have to suddenly make more time for me,” he frowned, and rolled his eyes. “It'd probably mean you'd cut out the time you spend having sex with other guys who aren't me, so either you'd see me more and we'd fuck, or you'd actually have _more_ free time.”

Blushing slightly, Roxas thought that might be a good segue into one point he'd forgotten to bring up. “I can't limit myself like that. It's never really been like me to stop myself when I decide I want something...”

Axel, being living proof of that, could only exhale in defeat. “Then we actually shouldn't keep screwing around, because that'll never stop bothering me.”

Ugh, every conversation was like this. It felt like they'd just run a lap around a looped track.

“I don't get it,” Roxas glanced away, equally incapable of understanding and just as frustrated in wanting to _try_. “How can you be so focused on one person?”

“Because I like you.”

Like it was that simple... “So? I like you, and I'd still screw other people if I wanted to.”

“And you wouldn't care if I was sleeping around?” Axel's brow knit, disbelieving.

Roxas shrugged, at least taking a second to think about it. “If it was getting in the way...”

“Then you probably don't like me the way I like you.” 'Probably', as if they didn't both know that.

“Because I'm not jealous?”

“Well, yeah,” Axel shrugged.

Fantastic. Like Roxas had never heard the jealousy-equals-affection argument before.

“If I'm going to constantly be doing what I'm supposed to, I might as well have one part of my life where I'm not held down.”

Axel's head tilted back and became acquainted with the wall. 'Held down'... Fidelity was honestly restricting, to him. He'd _said_ , way back when, that he didn't care if Roxas slept around... and, on a moral level, he didn't. More power to anyone with a healthy sex life.

But he was more than up to the challenge of sating Roxas's cravings, no matter how frequent or depraved. He didn't think either of them would _lose out_.

Which meant sex wasn't the problem. Feeling like he was being controlled was the root of the issue, and he wished he could figure out _why_.

He really wanted a cigarette. Axel hadn't had one since high school, but he could really go for one.

Lowering his head a bit, Roxas was quiet. “Even if I promised not to... I don't know if I'd be able to stop myself, when it came down to it.”

Axel exhaled. Being cheated on would be worse. And knowing Roxas like he did, now... He'd never stop being afraid of it happening.

He just didn't think he could take that again. Feeling _used_ , and stupid, and unimportant. Pretending he didn't suspect, or didn't know. Acting like things could be okay even though every time Saix had walked out the door, he'd felt discarded. Unwanted.

All the time, even when Saix was _inside_ him, he'd felt alone.

Yeah. He couldn't do that again, and lose another best friend.

“... Well, no matter how my whole spiel's come off, I actually don't want to pressure you into it.”

Roxas glanced down the hallway just to avoid looking at him.

“I guess we could keep doing just... this. This hang out and fuck each other thing,” Axel lifted one shoulder, wondering if he was really okay with that, or just led to a decision by the moment. “And I'll deal with it.”

Months ago, Roxas would have agreed to that without a second thought, let Axel deal with his feelings on his downtime. He shrugged – they were both doing a lot of that. “I dunno. Even though I know I'm the one who's gonna walk away in the end, right now I'm just afraid of this falling apart...”

“Aww, that's adorable.”

“I'm serious,” he glared.

“You think I'm not...?” It took a second to grin, but Axel managed it. “I basically had to chase you down so that you wouldn't just forget about me.”

“... I know...” he groaned, and covered his face.

“Then what do _you_ want to do...?”

Axel kept coming back to that. He supposed that was legitimate. He'd voiced his dream scenario, and now Roxas just had to express his.

“I...”

He just... had no idea what he actually wanted.

“... Don't answer right now, just... let me know.”

If Roxas had said 'You know what, let's go out, be monogamous for a while,' Axel still would have accepted. The heart and the brain never seemed to mesh, on that front, and no amount of reasoning had (or could) change it. But there was no way Roxas would be happy like that, and Axel wouldn't be either, as a result.

Whatever. They'd make _something_ work.

“... Sure...”

“Take it one step at a time,” Axel stretched a bit. “What d'you want to do right now?”

“Still what I wanted in the classroom...”

Alright, another orgasm would probably make certain bits uncomfortably tender against a motorcycle later, but Axel would deal.

“... but also a tour.”

He almost smirked, catching Roxas's shoulder briefly. “Tour first.”

Coming away from the wall, he nodded and started to walk with Axel. “So do you think I should actually come here?”

“Yeah, it's a good school. The tuition is kind of murder, but where isn't it?”

“Yeah, they're all about the same.”

“You know what you want to study, yet?”

“Mm. Mix of sciences, and some social work stuff if I can. At first, anyway.”

“Huh,” Axel nodded in contemplative approval. “The chemistry professor here is a massive tool, just so you know.”

“I'll make note of that.”

“Not that you can't handle a massive tool,” he wiggled his eyebrows. Roxas shoved him into a bulletin board, and he stumbled into it with flailing limbs.

Not sexy, unless you were the kind of person attracted to a baby deer trying to walk on its hind legs (which Roxas was not), but more importantly, not romantic.

He thought things might actually be easier, if it was.


	16. Happy Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kairi, everyone, Kairi is in this at last and we're super happy about it. Prepare yourselves to be punched in the chest with adorable Destiny besties.
> 
> Also, important note: Although Sora, Roxas, and Ven are brothers in this fic, Kairi and Namine are NOT sisters. So not sisters...

Yesterday, he'd sent everything home with Sora, save the clothes currently on his back and the prescribed medications in his pocket. Still, it hadn't felt like he was actually _leaving_ rehab until now, as Riku signed the form confirming that he had all of his possessions.

He wasn't _leaving_ -leaving. Riku was still expected to show up for mandatory rehab, nine o'clock to six o'clock, five days a week. There were physical tests, psych tests, private therapy, group therapy, social rehabilitation... Medications still needed to be monitored closely, tweaked regularly, and eventually tapered off.

That all sounded good to him. He was just looking forward to being _out_ , though some interpretations of that word still gave him a little thrill of trepidation.

He'd get to see his friends again. He'd see Sora _daily_. He'd have dinners comprised of foods that were actually distinguishable from each other.

Thanking Fauna, Riku put on his coat and turned away from the reception desk.

“ _Riku!_ ”

Sora and Kairi had called his name in unison (which they'd totally planned on the walk over), both wearing backpacks and their most excited smiles. Everything in Riku lit up and he learned the exact meaning of the term 'warm fuzzies'.

It was really happening. He was officially leaving the worst chapter of his life behind, and his best friends were ahead.

It took a lot of willpower not to _run_ to them.

Luckily, neither Sora nor Kairi were quite that restrained and the 'walk, don't run' rule could eat their dust. Kindly, security didn't give them any grief about it. Riku had one arm for each of them and they barreled into him, squeezing him with the combined strength of a super-powered koala, which was all the more impressive what with the puffiness of three winter coats getting in the way.

Fresh guilt hit Riku in tandem with unworthiness. It did nothing to diminish his joy.

Kairi hadn't seen him the entire time he'd been committed; Riku had been limited to only one guest, and she'd agreed with Sora that Riku probably needed him more for the time being. In a way, she was grateful that she'd had some time to come to terms with the entire situation – she would never be angry with Riku for going through what he did, but his stubborn refusal to ask for help had haunted them in smaller ways since they were kids. That he'd taken it so far that they'd almost _lost_ him...

She squeezed a little harder. “How are you doing?”

“Better than ever...” Riku closed his eyes briefly. His bones were probably crumbling to a fine powder and his lungs were being squeezed like a stress ball, but it was still true. “Missed you. And Namine.”

“She really wanted to be here. She sends her best wishes, though,” Kairi almost nuzzled her face into his arm. “And I missed you so much...”

He wasn't sure how to feel about Kairi's apparent forgiveness. Riku thought she should be at least a little angry at him, even after all this time. “... How have you been?”

“How do you think? Worried about you.” There was the sharpness.

Riku went quieter. “... I'm sorry...”

“There's lots of time for you to make it up to me,” Kairi raised her head a little, and spoke softer. “I'm thankful for that, if nothing else.”

Sora almost winced, but they all knew that Kairi needed _her_ time to vent her frustrations, and no one would blame her for that. Riku, especially.

“... Whatever I can do to atone... I'll do it,” he nodded, almost somber.

Kairi gave his back a gentle pat. “Right now... I think we should get you home.”

“Right,” Sora chimed in. “'Cause we _are_ going home!”

Riku grinned, finally unwinding from around them. “After a pit stop... But then...” he exhaled. “'Home' sounds great.”

Sora grinned. “So, are you all good to go?”

“Got everything.”

“Awesome. I've got bags and stuff in my backpack, oh -” he held up another bag, bright blue and star-patterned – borrowed from Ven. “And one for you!”

“That's great, thanks,” Riku accepted it, needing to loosen the straps before putting it on his back. “Now... let's get out of here.”

“Couldn't agree more,” Sora declared, taking Riku's hand. Falling into step on his right, Kairi took the other one.

He didn't deserve this after all he put his friends through, but still, Riku was relieved.

“... So... Will I even recognize the outside world?” he asked as they exited the building, looking around. “Doesn't look like much has changed.”

“Actually, apes took over while you were gone,” Sora informed him. Kairi giggled.

“Yep, we're all enslaved,” she confirmed brightly.

“Doesn't look so bad. Think they'll make us fight each other for sport? I could have a future as a gladiator.”

Sora's grin didn't fade. “Nah, they'll probably make you work in the factories.”

Riku sighed. “Too bad.”

“What factories are those?” Kairi questioned, and Sora floundered at being put on the spot.

“The, uh. The... banana factories?”

“What would they _do_ at a banana factory?” Riku sounded skeptical, as though only now thinking this may not be perfectly credible news.

“Make... banana things,” Sora answered defensively.

“Oh yes, all those banana products,” Kairi indulged him. “They're in very high demand these days.”

“You'd think they'd want the bananas intact, to eat.”

“You'd think, but our ape overlords actually have very refined tastes,” Kairi clarified conversationally.

“The upshot is, now there's banana bread whenever you want it.” Sora sounded as though that was a genuine pay-off to the posited enslavement of the human race.

Riku snorted. “Who knew, being enslaved isn't all bad.”

“Dang it, Sora, now I'm craving banana bread!” Kairi groaned. Immediately, Sora had his most innocent expression on, the one with the big eyes and the natural pout.

“Guess I spoke too soon,” Riku shook his head. Kairi sighed, but was unable to contain her giggles for long, and Sora was laughing along with her – he was almost bouncing, for that matter, giddy to have Riku free and outside.

Things felt comfortable and casual and no less dorky than they'd ever been, and if it wouldn't have been massively uncool, Riku might've choked on his emotions and started to cry.

He just couldn't stop smiling, now, instead, and that was better.

“... We could stop somewhere on the way back,” he suggested. “Cafe, or something.”

“That's a good idea,” Sora, who generally thought that food and all things food-related were good ideas, immediately agreed.

“I vote we go wherever Riku has been wanting to go.” Kairi added, thinking there must be at least a dozen of their usual hangout spots he'd want to visit after all that time cooped up.

He flushed faintly. “I don't even know where that'd be... Aside from 'everywhere'.”

Kairi thought that over. “Let's start with a cafe, then. We can go other places once you get settled at Sora's.”

“We'll have a real dinner somewhere good,” Riku promised.

“I'll make sure Namine can come this time,” she nodded.

“And I can pay for you, Riku,” Sora declared.

Automatically, he started to deny that. “I can cover-...” Riku faltered. “... Or... I guess I can't.”

“You'll get used to it,” Sora teased. Riku sighed, honestly feeling kind of isolated from _doing_ anything without money at his disposal.

But then Sora squeezed his hand affectionately and he put the loss out of his mind. Having his friends and the opportunity to start over was worth a lot more than money.

The three of them chatted about restaurants they hadn't been to in ages, movies that had come out that Riku needed to see, and Namine's contributions to a small upcoming art show. They rarely let go of each other, Kairi only doing so to cross narrow sidewalks or when they were blocking the path of other pedestrians. Riku was quick to draw her close again whenever they rejoined.

The closer they got to Riku's house, the less he spoke, and the firmer his grip was. Thankfully, Sora was talking enough for them both anyway, laying out all the plans he'd been concocting ever since finding out for sure that Riku would be living with him.

Completely unabashedly, Sora had announced that he was going to learn to braid to top off some of their sleepover activities, and that meant playing with Riku's hair until he got it right. Kairi offered to donate some of her nail polish to the cause, provided she was given a chance to use it on them, too, on her visits.

Riku probably wouldn't have denied them even if he was listening, but he wasn't. They'd rounded the corner onto his street, and at last, he let go of Sora and Kairi's hands to start searching his pockets for his keys.

He needn't have bothered. They weren't even up the walkway when Mrs. Misaki opened the door.

Sora took a step back on instinct, and Kairi encouragingly grasped his shoulder. To be totally honest, Riku's mother unnerved her too, if for very different reasons – way back, Mrs. Misaki been very _intent_ on Kairi's relationship with her son, and regarded her in an almost covetous manner. It might have been complimentary in a strange way, if it hadn't made Kairi feel a little like a show dog being appraised for breeding.

Of course, growing up and developing independent interests (Namine being among those interests) and attitudes made her a less desirable companion for Riku, and Mrs. Misaki had stopped seeing her as a match made in media heaven and more as an unwelcome little girl worthy only of derision.

Kairi would have reached for Riku, too, but she wasn't sure she should touch him at all in front of _her_. Who knew if that would make things worse or not.

Mrs. Misaki folded her arms imperiously, arching an eyebrow and staring Riku down. It almost worked, but he raised his chin a bit in defiance and approached the door. Sora swallowed hard, falling into single file behind Riku to avoid taking up more of the doorway.

Riku dropped his house keys into the open palm she extended. Mrs. Misaki stepped aside to allow them in.

“Where's Father?” Riku stepped inside.

“Away,” she answered succinctly, eyes lingering on Kairi. “You will find the remainder of your things upstairs.”

As charmingly as Kairi was capable of – which anyone, including Kairi herself, could tell you was pretty freakin' charming – she smiled. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Misaki.”

Riku's mother did not smile back, looking disdainfully down her nose. “Do be quick.”

“We will be,” Riku removed his shoes but didn't bother to take off his coat, starting over to the staircase. Sora, who was very determinedly avoiding looking at Mrs. Misaki, nearly trod on the carpet before remembering to do the same. He took them off in a hurry to dart after Riku.

He was trying as hard as he could to quash the memory of the last time he was in Riku's house, but it crept up the back of his neck... felt like something physically haunting him. The fear stung like a band-aid that'd been freshly ripped off, and Sora felt a little more vulnerable here than he was used to.

Kairi managed to keep smiling like a pro right up until she'd scurried after them, not wanting to be stuck in the foyer on her own. An involuntary shiver went through her, wondering if her back was being watched.

Wanting to leave as soon as possible, Riku went right for his bedroom without slowing. The time away from this house made it feel that much colder and darker, and he wondered if things had changed, or it had always felt like this. Maybe it had somehow escaped his notice.

He opened the bedroom door and stopped dead.

All of the furniture had been removed; bed, dresser, desk, bookshelves, even the end tables. His computer was gone, along with all other personal effects both big and small. Only his clothes were still around, filling up cardboard boxes to the point of overflowing, clumped in the middle of the floor.

“What's up?” Sora craned his neck, trying to see past Riku into the room.

Honestly... he wasn't as surprised as he thought he should be.

“My stuff is gone,” he told them, approaching the boxes. Sora stared in disbelief, following.

“What? All of it?”

“Oh, Riku...” Kairi lamented softly, following them inside.

“... It's fine. Should've guessed she'd do this.” Impassively, Riku shrugged off the backpack. “No luggage, so... I guess I'll take everything I can fit.”

With a sigh, Kairi approached one of the boxes. “Is it okay to look in?”

“I don't mind. Worst thing you're gonna see is my underwear.” Actually, he was faintly embarrassed by that prospect, but that struck him as really dumb. They'd all seen each other in various states of undress before and what was he, ten? Girls had seen his underwear before. Girls had taken _off_ his underwear, before. Not Kairi, though, that would be _really_ weird. Especially now they were both dating people. People of the same gender as them, at that.

Nodding, Kairi started to dutifully fold and pack as much as she could possibly fit into her backpack.

“This is... really all you have?” Sora looked around the room again, having a hard time getting past that.

“Guess she sold everything,” Riku muttered. “She told me that I'd have to pay her back for the rehab...”

Sora's fists clenched at his sides, a little tremor going through them. “That's not fair...”

Privately, Kairi agreed, but kept her anger to herself. She felt almost sick.

“It was my mistake. I should pay for it,” Riku disagreed tonelessly, folding and rolling clothes to take up as little space as possible.

“But she-...” Sora was a step away from all-out blaming Riku's parents for his whole situation. “She's already taking the money she was going to spend on you away, why take the things you already have? It's awful.”

“At least she didn't donate my clothes.”

“But it's -”

“Sora, it's terrible,” Kairi gently interrupted. “But I think Riku wants to get out of here as soon as possible, so we should just pack up what's still here.”

Quiet and genuine, Riku murmured, “Thanks, Kairi.”

Falling into a stormy silence, Sora found the nearest box and opened up his backpack to start aggressively piling clothes into it. He was in such an unexpectedly bad mood that he didn't even experience any giddy embarrassment when handling Riku's boxers, which was kind of a plus but it came from a negative thing so it was canceled out.

Riku was making sure he had as many essentials as possible before zipping up the bag, paranoid that he'd run out of socks or something. They all ran out of room sooner than they'd thought, which shot anxiety through Riku's veins like someone had liquefied it and injected him with a needle.

Which was an inappropriate analogy, but horribly apt. Even without _craving_ , in the strictest sense, Riku found himself wishing he could take his mind away from this place to power through it. The first inkling of his mind whispering _heroin_ like a proposition made him feel worse, afraid of himself and afraid that he'd left too early.

If he was any kind of decent, he'd sign himself back into rehab.

But if he was any kind of _strong_... He'd move past that second-long consideration, realize he hadn't lapsed, and get through this.

... Man, he just didn't want to have to cycle through dirty clothes. Maybe no one would mind if he used the laundry facilities kind of often...

Sora started to fill up a plastic garbage bag, having brought some along in anticipation of needing space, and Kairi quietly took a bag for herself. Riku relaxed a little.

“... Good thinking...” he went to take one, and was met with a smile. Sora had calmed down a little, thinking happy thoughts like _never-ending sleepover_ and _hair fondling_.

“I think we can get everything like this,” he noted optimistically, in that ever-so-slightly-forced way he rarely had to use.

“It's gonna be a lot to carry. Are you sure that's okay?”

“It'll be okay between the three of us,” Sora reassured him.

“Thanks...” Riku began loading up the garbage bag. He wished he could do something to actually repay them or make this right.

Honesty was all they wanted. Later, he'd tell Sora about that brief desire to use, and that he'd taken control of it before it could do him real harm.

“No problem,” Sora dismissed, trying not to point out that they probably couldn't make a second trip here anyway and oblivious to Riku's conclusion that he was going to be abandoning some, if not most, of his wardrobe. “You'd have a hard time fitting into my clothes.”

Riku snorted. “I'd look even more ridiculous than you do.”

“Ye-... Hey!”

He snickered.

“Very funny,” Sora pouted.

Kairi spoke up, ignoring such shenanigans when there was a job to be done. “I'm done with this box.”

“Great, this one's almost empty too...” Riku folded up a shirt and rolled it into a fabric tube, stuffing it into his garbage bag, where it promptly unfurled and lost its methodical shape. Kairi went over to help with Sora's, and they made short work of the remainder.

To Riku's immense surprise, they managed to pack away all of it.

“Is there anything else?” Sora tied off his full garbage bag.

“No... Nothing.”

Actively fighting his own sense of injustice, Sora grinned. “Okay, let's get this home, then.”

Hauling the bag up, Riku headed to the door and hoped it wouldn't rip or something. “Is anything too heavy?”

“I'm okay... it's just bulky.” Kairi hauled the garbage bag into both arms and started out into the hallway.

“If you need me to take one, let me know...”

“I'll be fine,” she insisted, speaking over her shoulder.

Riku waited on Sora as he slid the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and picked up one of the bags by the handles, letting him go ahead before following him to the stairs.

Downstairs, Mrs. Misaki sat in the living room, apparently doing nothing at all aside from keeping an eye on the hallway. Sora didn't look anywhere but straight ahead.

Practically home-free, in the worst possible connotations of the word. Sora stepped into his shoes, seeing if he could get them on without having to put down a bag.

“Riku.”

Not a step from the foyer, Riku paused.

“Your phone.”

Kairi looked around, meeting Sora's worried look with one of her own. Mrs. Misaki sat perfectly straight, head high and fingertips gently pressed together with her hands primly in her lap. Riku was frozen at first, conscious of the weight in his coat pocket.

Slowly, he put down the garbage bag of clothes, and went over to her. Without the slightest shift in expression, he took it out, and almost slammed the phone onto the coffee table.

Surprisingly, no one flinched.

“There is no need for your childishness,” Mrs. Misaki coolly admonished.

Testily, he ignored that and asked, “Anything else?”

“Nor your attitude.”

Kairi quickly put down her own garbage bag to grab Sora's arm, noticing he looked ready to charge in and start championing Riku by whatever means necessary. Sora exhaled loudly through his nose, rather like an angry bull.

“Sorry,” Riku said stiffly. “I'll go now.”

“Yes, you shall,” Mrs. Misaki's tone was delicate. “To live with your lover, unless I'm mistaken.”

Riku went a shade paler.

Darkly – surprisingly so, from him – Sora muttered, “Let's just go.”

Kairi was almost trembling with worry. Without another word, Riku turned, going to put his shoes on and hauling up the bag. Sora lifted his back up so violently that he nearly put a hole in it.

Right until the door closed, Riku could feel his mother's eyes on his back.

She knew.

Of course she knew. Upon learning there was _anything_ about her son she did _not_ know, Mrs. Misaki wouldn't have let any evidence escape her notice. That was assuming she didn't merely throw that out there to disarm him, give him one last good shaking up before never seeing each other again -

He had to forget about it. He was outside of her grasp. There was nothing else she could _do_ to him.

Yet he still felt kind of sick.

Not specifying who she was talking to, Kairi cautiously asked, “Are you alright?”

“She makes me so mad...” Sora glowered at the ground, still entertaining fantasies of going back in there, wrenching Riku's keys back, and throwing them into her face.

Riku was quiet, adjusting his grip on the bag.

Kairi wasn't honestly sure why she asked. All she could do now was try to help them. “So, um, the cafe...?”

“... Yeah,” Riku confirmed that they were still going.

“There's one not too far from your house, Sora, right?”

“Huh?” Sora's angry fantasies had evolved, and now Mrs. Misaki had transformed into a dragon (as a special callback to his childhood fear) and he was slaying her with a sword before rescuing Riku from a tower. “Oh. Yeah.”

“... We'll never have to see her again,” Riku muttered, kind of to himself.

“... Right, you should be thinking about the future now,” Kairi encouraged.

Sora started to brighten again. “You're right...”

She _was_ right, but Riku wasn't having such an easy time recovering, remembering his mother's cold eyes. “Exactly...”

“I'll probably have to make even more room in my closet with all of this!” Sora commented, trying not to think about replacing Riku's other things. He wasn't even sure he could offer to. A phone, a computer, all the other essentials of living... It added up. A lot.

Riku grinned a little, and wished he didn't have to force it. “We'll have to cram it all in.”

“Or I'll make someone give me an extra dresser.” He was seriously considering emptying and stealing Roxas's while he was out of the house. If you asked him, it was high time he had some of _his_ furniture used without his consent, because _take that, Roxas_.

“Think anyone will go for it?”

“I might forget to ask them first...”

Riku snorted, a little amused despite himself.

“You could argue Riku's need is greater,” Kairi laughed, sensing the lightening mood.

“It _totally_ is.”

“Maybe steal Ven's,” Riku suggested. “At least half his clothing is at Terra's, isn't it?”

“Probably! That's not a bad idea...” Sora made like he was considering it, but he personally preferred the revenge idea.

The longer they talked about stealing things to give to Riku, the more he started to feel like his mother's judgment didn't matter. It'd come back to him every so often, along with cruel words and the fear that _everyone_ would know, _everyone_ would loathe him for being less than this stupid and unrealistic ideal.

But if Sora, Kairi, and Namine didn't hate him for everything he'd done, they wouldn't hate him for anything he was.

 

* * *

 

The clothing bags were all dropped just inside the front hallway for the time being, Riku giving Kairi a prolonged hug at the door.

He was kind of reluctant to let her leave, but he also kind of wanted alone time with Sora.

She hugged both of them tightly with half a piece of banana loaf still in her mouth, and a paper bag in one hand – a treat for Namine from the cafe. Kairi popped the remainder in her mouth and chewed quickly, far too well-mannered to speak with her mouth full.

“So, I'll see you both on the weekend?”

“Saturday morning,” Sora confirmed, squeezing her. “I'll text you!”

“And I'll text you my number as soon as I can get a phone...”

Kairi smiled sympathetically. “It'll work out soon. You're already better off where you are... But you know that.”

“You're making me sound pretty impressive...” Sora rubbed at the back of his head.

Riku's grin was faint, but a lot more honest. “Maybe you're a _little_ impressive.”

“Aw, don't start that again now.” Sora blushed. “Maybe later.”

Kairi giggled. “Bye, guys. I'll bring Namine your love. And these cookies.”

“Thanks, Kairi...” Riku was tempted to hug her again. “For helping, and for everything.”

“I'm just glad I got a chance to help,” Kairi said, a little pointedly.

Riku had trouble meeting her eyes, and she tried not to immediately feel guilty.

“I'm glad you're doing better, Riku,” she softened. “Nothing is worth more than that.”

“Well said!” Sora agreed.

“... Thank you...” Riku nodded. Feeling ashamed of himself would do no one any good.

He'd brood later, in privacy.

“Okay,” Kairi steeled herself, stepping out of the doorway. “Going for real this time. Bye!”

“See you Saturday!” Sora called as she waved to them, Riku waving back.

She didn't turn her back on them until she'd reached the sidewalk.

“... Should we go to your room?” Riku suggested quietly, once they'd closed the door.

“Uh, yeah.” Quickly, Sora added, “We've got to start putting this stuff away, right?”

“Right, exactly,” Riku turned to put the backpack on again and hauled up as many of the garbage bags as he could carry. Kairi was right; they weren't heavy so much as unwieldy, and the best way to carry them was to stack them one on top of the other.

Which made it impossible to see over the top, but Riku could manage. Who even needed vision, anyway?

Sora gathered up the last two bags and sort of waddled up the stairs, while Roxas spied into the hall from a cracked-open door. Despite the lack of visibility, Riku managed to spot him with a vindictive spike in certainty.

He knew what he wanted to do, already, but Roxas being around just kind of made that urge _more_.

Roxas narrowed his eyes at him and snapped the door closed as they passed. Sora pretended not to notice, and that the huge grin on his face was totally unrelated.

Sora had 'made space' in his bedroom mostly by pushing half of the room's contents into a pile around his bed, a very welcoming bedroll set up on the floor next to it. Riku grinned, sitting down the bags.

“That was, uh, my parents' condition,” Sora cleared his throat, deciding not to mention that he was going to need time to be alright with letting Riku back on his bed. The bedding had been entirely replaced since... the last time.

“Of course – I mean, naturally...” Quietly, Riku closed the bedroom door.

“Uh-huh,” Sora dropped the bags, glancing at Riku. “So... yeah.”

That sure was a closed door. They were nice and alone and they could do practically anything they wanted. Sora sure wasn't thinking about sex, those were just things that he'd noticed.

“If you want to do this first, or... you can just settle in. However slow you want, no pressure to do anything...”

He hoped that was taken at a more general meaning. Because it wasn't like Sora _just_ meant that in regards to sexy stuff. Okay, yes, he was thinking of sexy stuff. But he hoped Riku didn't think he was thinking about it...

“I want to make out.”

“Huh?”

“No pressure to do anything, I know,” Riku echoed. “But I want to make out.”

Sora stared, a little dumbly. “Uh... Okay!”

 _Yeah_ , actually, that was a great plan. Sora was like, one hundred percent on board.

Riku came over to him, catching him on the way to the bed and kind of pulling Sora to the mattress. Sora lost his balance and fell back onto it, with an undignified sound a bit like, “Wah-...!”

Smoothly, Riku moved to straddle him, and stared down with the beginnings of a grin.

“... Hey.”

Flat on his back, and instantly turned on, Sora's eyes widened. “... Hey...”

Never mind, Riku was allowed on his bed.

“This is okay for you, right?” Riku started to lean down, and Sora failed to sound cool or composed in the slightest.

“This is good!”

Riku smirked. He rather liked the effect he was having, and he determined that this was already pretty gay so _take that, Mom_. He'd love Sora as much as he damn well wanted in whatever way he saw fit, and he saw fit to mack on him in a manner that defied all the heteronormativity they'd imposed on him.

His parents would fucking hate him for this, and the thought gave him a little pleasure. Roxas being just a room away was the spitefully-pleasurable icing on the cake.

He kissed him and deepened it right away, and despite not knowing how or when they got to this point, Sora was just happy to be there. He kissed Riku back eagerly, all in favor of the way he settled on top of him. Riku propped himself up against one arm while the other slid down to Sora's hip.

“Mm...” Now that there was nothing to stop them from doing this (whatever _this_ was) Sora was reacting strong and fast. He reached up to slide his hands over Riku's shoulders, tongue trailing his lip.

Riku was massaging his hip and it was _nice_.

One hand inevitably wound up in Riku's hair, brushing his jaw with his thumb. Riku's entire world was narrowing to just _Sora_ , aware that they could go as far as they wanted and kissing him that much more heatedly. He rocked against him, able to feel Sora's hard-on and kind of pleasantly shocked at how loud he moaned.

Sora was heating up fast, and decided he wasn't going to be shy about it. He'd kind of held back his natural vocal self while there were still people around, like security guards and nurses... He kind of _had_ to stifle himself so long as there were people around who he didn't want hearing him.

Not that he'd forgotten Roxas was nearby. He just happened to be okay with that.

Already deciding to do whatever it took to get _more_ moans out of him, Riku broke the kiss and sat up to remove his shirt. Sora stared with that same gape on his face, apparently not having lost it except for the time he spent kissing Riku.

The shirt was abandoned. Now there was Riku-chest.

“Mind if I take off yours...?”

“Yeah. Go for it. Get rid of it,” Sora almost babbled, sitting up. He was almost face-first in the Riku-chest. _Cool_.

Sadly, Riku sat back a bit, though only enough to maneuver. He slid Sora's shirt up and felt over his chest in the process.

“Mm...” Sora's hands ran down to his hips, a bit winded. “This is different...”

“Yeah...” Throwing the shirt aside, Riku immediately put his hands to better use running over Sora's shoulders and down his arms. He wasn't sure he'd noticed the definition there before, and it was _good_ definition.

Sora massaged little circles against his hips, unable to fathom anything bolder just yet. With a pleased sound, he muttered, “I like this...”

“Me, too.” Riku tilted his chin up and kissed him again, slowly guiding them back down. Sora felt flooded by both affection and heat, hard enough to strain against his jeans and helplessly grinding up against him. To his own surprise, Riku was responsive – this really wasn't freaking him out nearly as much as he thought it might.

Honestly, feeling up his chest was proving stranger; he was palming Sora thoroughly, experimental, not sure where to get a handhold when he was sort of, well... lacking the parts he was used to.

Shivery, Sora groaned loud and tried to move to give Riku _more_ , then jumped when something heavy hit the other wall. Probably a book. Roxas had lots of those.

Riku smirked, starting to kiss down his chest, and Sora snickered. The decision to ignore Roxas was universal. That was the best part about doing _stuff_ with your best friend; they were always on the same wavelength.

Hands drifted through Riku's hair and the kisses quickly became more fervent. Sora moaned louder still, letting all control of his volume go (partly to spite Roxas) as he bucked up against him. “Riku-...”

Roxas, knowing he was beaten, did the only thing he could, which was to put on headphones.

“Mm...” Riku's tongue teased a path down, and the only reason he didn't go lower was so Sora could keep grinding against him. Both hands went to his hips, and the next time Sora arched, Riku literally seized the opportunity. Both hands slid back to grope him through denim, and without warning Sora's pleasure crashed over the edge, not even sure when he became that _hot_.

Orgasm rushed Sora and tackled him, making him tremble all over with a choked cry. Sora bit hard into his lip until the feeling subsided, slowly opening his eyes.

It took Riku a minute to realize something had happened, though a total lack of familiarity with this situation meant he drew a blank on an explanation. He sat up over him in slight confusion, hands uncertainly sliding back up.

“... You okay?”

Reality, that brutally honest bastard, gave Sora a gentle tap on the shoulder. He went bright red, bringing his hands up to his face. “Oh god...”

It was starting to dawn on Riku. “... Did you-?”

Mortified, Sora nodded.

Honestly, Riku was more confused than anything. Not over how it'd _happened_ – he'd freely admit that things had been getting hot and hey, that was a thing that everyone with a penis experienced at some point in their sexual life – but he'd never had a partner come too fast without being able to just... keep going.

“Uh-... You don't have to be embarrassed...”

“If you say so,” Sora's voice was muffled. “Um... it felt really good?”

“That _is_ kinda the point,” Riku grinned, a bit flushed. “... We don't have to do anything else, if you want to change...”

Sora lowered his hands, sheepish. “Yeah, I should... But what about you?”

“I'm still...”

“I can help with that!” Sora promptly declared. “Just give me... one second.”

Moving off of him, Riku settled on the bed. “You don't _have_ to, if you don't want -”

“I want to!”

Riku was almost taken aback with how quickly he responded, but was kind of amused. “... Okay.”

Scrambling off the bed, Sora ditched his jeans and underwear to grab pyjamas – it didn't really matter if he changed in front of his boyfriend. Riku went rapidly pink and looked away, right before remembering that he probably _could_ look.

He tugged the pants up too quickly for the double-take to really yield anything, though, much to Riku's lament.

Sora crawled back on the bed, glancing between Riku's legs.

This part was a little more awkward. Riku was used to a forward partner; one that made things progress almost painlessly. “... So, uh...”

“Yeah... What should I do...?”

“Well, nothing you're uncomfortable doing...”

“'Course...” Gently, he placed his hand on Riku's knee and started to slide it up. Responsive to touch, Riku drew Sora back in to kiss again.

It felt more relaxed and sensual, following Sora's climax, even as he deepened it and squeezed Riku's thigh. He tried not to rush this out of need.

When his thought process wasn't all just about more pleasure, Sora had an easier time doubting himself and suddenly worried that he'd have no idea what to do. The sensible thing was to get over it and at least _feel_ , surely.

At once, Sora's hand was between his legs, and Riku held onto him tighter with a hand around Sora's waist. His hips twitched a little.

That was kind of fascinating. Fixated on the experience of touching someone other than himself, Sora's eyes flickered to his face. “I should take these off, huh?”

Riku's grin was almost lazy, watching him with naked affection. “That'd be good, yeah...”

Nodding determinedly, Sora unzipped his pants and failed to work them off even remotely smoothly. Riku didn't mind the clumsiness, at least, lifting his hips and making every step as easy as possible. Once they were in a heap on the floor, Sora made to remove his boxers, and swallowed hard.

Riku gave him a second before suggesting, “Want me to?”

“Uh, yeah. If that's cool...”

He managed not to pause for more than a second before shifting to remove them, and Sora's eyes were immediately drawn down. Riku reddened.

He wasn't exactly _self-conscious_ , but... he was very aware of being looked at.

Sora's face was almost as pink, shifting closer. “It's okay for me to touch...?”

“ _Yeah_ , that's... I'm okay with that...”

In theory, Sora had a pretty good baseline knowledge of what to do. He touched _himself_ all the time, and had a very nice time doing so. But in the moment, with Riku's erection standing proud and tall and aching to be touched, it was kind of embarrassing. Really embarrassing. Kind of stressful, too. What if touching a dick from a different angle made all the difference, like trying to write with a non-dominant hand? What if Sora just jacked off in a weird kinky way, and he'd never realized because no one had ever been in the position to tell him?!

Wait, Riku had been with Roxas, who Sora had unwillingly heard did all sorts of weird kinky things.

Oh, god, what if he touched him _just like Roxas_ did?!

Hit with crippling self-consciousness on top of embarrassment, Sora was woefully defeated by the clash of nerves. And there was Riku, just sitting there, waiting to see what he'd do.

“U-um... Maybe you should do it this time... Just 'cause I already-... Not like I don't _want_ to, but it might... It's probably just better if you do.”

To his utmost indignation, it looked like Riku was trying really hard not to snicker. Sora flushed a deeper red, almost snapping, “Don't laugh.”

“Sorry!” Riku stifled a smirk. “... I swear, I'm not making fun of you.”

He wasn't, exactly. It was just that Sora had been so gung-ho only a minute ago, and very quickly developed the cutest 'deer in headlights' expression Riku had ever seen.

And now his scowl was in danger of entering 'pout' territory.

“I'm _not_ ,” Riku repeated emphatically, stealing a kiss, and wrapped a hand around himself. He ignored the part of him that thought this should be weird; he'd never done anything like _this_ with a partner.

Sora allowed himself to be placated by the kiss, kneeling over his lap to let his hands roam over every part of Riku he could reach. Touching himself felt considerably less awkward with Sora's hands on him, too, and Riku started to stroke himself the way he would if he was alone. He was kind of curious to see what the differences would be.

Even if he wasn't the one causing them, Sora wanted all of Riku's reactions. He didn't linger on the kiss for very long, moving down his neck – he'd mapped out sensitive spots, in their former make-out sessions, and he wanted to find them again. Riku wasn't _as_ vocal, but when he didn't hold back, his sounds were wonderfully rewarding.

“Ah...”

Like that one. Riku's other hand rested on the back of Sora's neck, and he was immensely pleased with himself. Fortunately, he wasn't able to get hard so soon, otherwise he probably would have gotten worked up all over again. Briefly, he sucked at the spot on Riku's neck that was making his whole body buzz, then pulled back as something occurred to him.

“Hey, Riku...?”

“Nn – yeah?” He paused, half-tempted to pull Sora close again.

“Would it be really bad if I gave you a hickey? Just a little one?”

Riku grinned. “You _are_ my boyfriend... That makes you the only person allowed to give me hickeys.”

Sora practically glowed. “Heck yeah, it does.” Quickly, he amended, “But I don't want it to be, like, something my parents or the day program people ask about. So, just one, maybe, just so I get to know I put a mark on you.”

That was quite a way of phrasing it, one that made Riku feel kind of... heated, by the idea. “Yeah... You can leave one.”

“Cool...” Sora sounded a little awed, then snapped out of it. “'Kay. That's all I wanted to know.”

He decided to go after the other side of Riku's neck as he leaned back in. Riku exhaled, mind still on the idea of walking around with a love bite that could potentially be glimpsed and questioned.

Weirdly, he was sort of excited by that. His hand slowly resumed working himself over.

Sora was close enough to feel Riku's knuckles brush his stomach occasionally, otherwise focused on the trail he was kissing and sucking up his neck. He wanted to see which spot got the best reaction out of Riku; it'd be _his_ spot.

He definitely found it. Riku twitched slightly with a bitten-back groan, sure that Sora's mouth somehow got ten times hotter, and he immediately latched to the spot just below Riku's ear. The hand in his hair directed Riku's head to one side without even thinking.

Arousal became dizzying and it felt _nothing_ like masturbating, this was so much hotter. Riku's eyes closed, his groan impossible to rein in and his hand moving faster – every sound spurred Sora on, sucking steadily harder, and it was starting to hurt a little in a startlingly good way.

He was probably overdoing it, but Sora didn't know how much pressure it took to leave an intentional bruise. At least Riku didn't seem to _mind_.

Needy, Riku exhaled Sora's name. He wondered if Roxas could still hear them.

At last, Sora pulled back and placed a very light kiss to the wet spot, and the affection was inexplicably what put him over the edge.

“ _Sora_...”

He felt _warm_ , not just in a lustful way – Riku felt comfortable, more than made sense. Sora closed his eyes with a contented hum, the bliss of hearing Riku and _knowing_ he'd made him feel like that even more satisfying than his own orgasm.

Granted, his orgasm had been spontaneous and in his jeans but _still_.

Riku drew him into a kiss as he prolonged the last few moments of his climax, and Sora wrapped him up in a tight hug with a tiny shiver. With some embarrassment, Riku noted that he'd need to change into new pyjamas (again), but that seemed a lot less important than cuddling.

Sora was kissing him with enough enthusiasm to tip them over onto the bed, but was mindful enough to at least rest his weight on Riku slowly. They'd change later; making out was now. Riku was basking in a totally unfamiliar contentment that he didn't even care enough to identify, melting into the mattress and kissing Sora back.

They were both warm and tingling, caring only that they were _here_ and that everything was going to be good.


	17. Rounding the Chemical Bases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you like awkward sexual experimentation, because that's pretty much this chapter non-stop.

Demyx was already the sort of person naturally inclined to fidget, but that tendency to squirm was a lot harder to control when he _had_ to keep still or if he was embarrassed. Put together, that shit was so difficult to keep under wraps.

But he _needed_ his wrist wrapped. That was what one did with a strained ligament, no matter how minor. It smarted every time he tried to do just about anything, and unless he wanted to wind up never playing guitar again...

He held it aloft, gaze downcast, and kept his mouth shut. Zexion had spent roughly a minute hushing his fervent apologies for not fully completing his 'homework', which was still open on the living room table. Little boxes were checked along a helpful one-to-five scale, ranging from 'Dislike' to 'Preferred Activity' on the sexual penchant scale.

Zexion had mercifully excluded any essay portions, though there was some extra room for short answers if Demyx felt the need to elaborate on anything.

He had not felt the need. He'd felt _other_ needs, and that brought him to his current wounded state.

“So... this is from... your guitar?” Zexion guessed, binding the fabric bandage tight.

“U-um... Probably mostly.”

His eyebrows raised a little – or maybe he just lifted the one, it wasn't as though anyone could tell – but Zexion didn't press for an explanation behind the tone of, _'Yes, let's go with that.'_

“You should be taking more frequent breaks if you're going to be exerting yourself,” he admonished.

“Yeah...” A little miserably, Demyx nodded. “I'll keep that in mind...”

Really, he was a horrifically poor liar. Demyx could be read like a children's picture book. It was cute. “... Is there something else?”

“Nope,” he denied too quickly, then slumped. He seemed to know there was no point in being evasive, and he didn't want to _lie_ to his _boyfriend_. That was the third-worst thing you could _do_ to your boyfriend. The first-worst was cheat on him, the second-worst was accidentally drop one of his dumb heavy books into a full bathtub to see if it would make a tidal wave.

Time to just come clean. No matter how stupid Demyx felt about it.

“... Yeah... Sort of. It's embarrassing, is all.”

There was nothing at all to connect Demyx's light sprain to the sexual nature of his assignment. Guessing he may have just done something ridiculous, he prodded, “You can tell me.”

It was remarkable how much a human being could resemble a deer trapped in the impenetrable barrier of headlights.

“...Demyx?”

“I... I kind of... pulled it,” he swallowed. “When I was, uh...”

With his free hand, he made a jerking gesture, and glanced down again. Zexion's cheeks heated up.

“Oh, I see. I didn't realize that was a, um, hazard...” Which was rather an oversight. He would need to add that as a possible injury to incur during sexual activities, on his section about coital repercussions.

“It isn't... Usually... I don't think...”

“Was this, er... especially...” Zexion took a moment to produce the right word. “Rigorous?”

Man, why wouldn't the floor just open up and swallow him into the void? It'd be the most action he'd gotten in months and he'd never have to be this embarrassed ever again. “Kinda...”

With a comprehending nod, Zexion hummed in consideration. He wasn't backing away in disgust or making an excuse to leave, so _maybe_ nothing terribly cataclysmic was about to happen.

Or it could just be a matter of moments. Hesitant, Demyx inquired, “You're not gonna laugh?”

“I won't laugh,” Zexion calmly reassured him. “You know, you don't have to hide these things from me.”

“... I know...” he trailed off to a mumble. “S'just really embarrassing.”

“Yes, but if you're _injuring_ yourself...” Wait, that wasn't quite the direction he wanted to take that sentence in. Clearing his throat, Zexion started again. “If you get... aroused, I won't be bothered by it. You won't intimidate me.”

Demyx reddened. “So, you mean-...” Vague confusion crossed his expression. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said,” Zexion blinked, not understanding what _Demyx_ could be misinterpreting or not comprehending.

His eyes widened.

“So are you saying you'd want to-...?”

“We _did_ talk about this before. I know you don't excuse yourself out of a lack of desire...”

Demyx debated with himself. “... What if I was, um, right now...?”

Alright, that admittedly caught Zexion off his guard enough to break through his serenity. He glanced down, not sure what he was expecting to see. “... Are you?”

Head hanging, Demyx confessed, “I didn't finish, earlier...”

“Ah.” Naturally, a wrist injury would rather take something from the experience. “Well, you did fill out the questionnaire...”

His blush was practically luminous. “So... You'd want to try...?”

Quite rapidly, Zexion was going dark red, himself. “I can't deny being... curious.”

His sexual studies had actually become so consistent that it had started to interrupt everyday thought patterns. After making his bed that morning, he'd actually thought about the merits of sex under the covers versus _over_ them and realized that he actually had an _opinion_ on it, one he couldn't even base on gathered data. He was actually starting to think about sex as it might apply to him, and the idea was...

It wasn't that is was _appealing_ so much as... Zexion really didn't think he'd mind. He didn't anticipate this as a poor experience, and just for the sake of knowing, he kind of _wanted_ it.

Demyx tried very hard not to be too eager. Be cool, even. Just be nonchalant. He shifted a bit closer, his gut doing a spirited routine full of backflips and cartwheels. “Okay, cool... If you really want...”

Instantly, Zexion's heart rate picked up. “I'm willing to experiment. Just... be aware that my experience in this area is lacking.”

He nodded. “That's fine! I can just-... I know how this works, and I'm good at this,” Demyx grinned, and almost leaped to his feet. “We should... Bedroom?”

There was no way he'd do this in the _living room_. That was the probably the least romantic room in the entire apartment. Even the kitchen would have been better – kitchens had the provisions for foodplay and spontaneity. Which was _not_ where they were at, yet, so... Bedroom.

While it wasn't totally unexpected, Zexion was still a little floored by his enthusiasm. “Bedroom makes the most sense.”

See – he _knew_ it.

Demyx took Zexion's offered hand to help him up, and didn't let go as he guided them to the bedroom. Annoyingly, Zexion found his heartbeat still erratic, and he had to remind himself that simply _touching Demyx_ wasn't unexplored territory. Thank god they spent plenty of time hanging out in his room without any sort of sexual tension, or else the journey would have been that much more nerve-wracking.

Likewise, Demyx was glad that it was already pretty tidy – mostly because he didn't own much, but there was no way they could be _sexy things_ in a _messy room_.

“If you change your mind, or want me to slow down, or _anything_ , just say so.”

“I will...”

Equal parts giddy and nervous, Demyx closed the door. “... The bed?”

“Right.” As he went to sit, it dawned on Zexion that _this_ was probably the reason he hadn't been invited into Demyx's bed before. The cheap desk chair was his usual provided seat, and remained in the corner, suddenly out of place in the sparse arrangement.

The bed was almost less comfortable, just for all the implications it had. The inherent intimacy compelled Zexion to remove his socks the moment he sat down, and he compulsively bent to do so.

Demyx went totally still. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

Freezing in his task, Zexion straightened back up with one sock in hand. “Um... is this a problem?”

“ _Oh_... N-no.” Flustered, Demyx sat beside him. It wasn't like he thought Zexion was doing anything super forward like taking off his pants. Sure, he was undressing, but... Just socks. Nothing sexy about ankles. Even if they were Zexion ankles. Like, he'd _seen_ his ankles before, _and_ feet, so that wasn't weird and why would it even be weird in the first place? Feet weren't even Demyx's _thing_.

No, he much preferred Zexion's hands. And his hands were almost _always_ naked.

Aw man, _that_ was probably weird...

Still confused, Zexion leaned down to remove the other sock and chalked up Demyx's oddities to inexplicable hormonal behavior. Nervously, Demyx waited for him to be done.

Once finished, Zexion sat up properly and looked almost quizzically at him, rather having expected him to do something by now. Demyx sidled up to him, leaning in.

“Ready?”

He nodded, and Demyx didn't need any more than that to kiss him – excitement in check, he had to be gentle. This was the most important sex in his whole life so _no pressure_ , on either of them. So, gentle. Gentle was nice and still familiar, Zexion noted, and took his hand as he kissed back.

The big difference was leading this somewhere. Very carefully, Demyx shifted to move over him and guide him down to the bed. 'Horizontal' was probably the best way to kick things up but test boundaries... and Zexion was a touch relieved to have the guidance. The warmth over and around him was enjoyable, even comfortable.

Unexpected, in truth. He would have thought someone might get claustrophobic with another person's weight hovering over them.

Tentative as though trying to tame some unknown beast, Demyx deepened the kiss with all of his effort in making it slow and predictable. At his prompting, Zexion cautiously parted his lips, and Demyx only teased a little with his tongue. Surprisingly, thinking back on his own first foray into fucking was helping; that had been pretty much the exact opposite of this, which had been _great_ for him but wouldn't work for Zexion. Nothing unpredictable, or fast, or rough, or dirty...

Even like, a year ago, he would have summed up this sort of thing as 'boring', but it was anything but. Everything was _tingly_ and buzzing and sweet, arousal re-awakened, and with all the thinking that Demyx was doing his dick couldn't get the better of him and take 'anticipation' up to 'impatience'.

It took Zexion some time to figure out what he wanted to do with his body, but he finally settled his hands on the back of his boyfriend's neck. His fingers threaded through hair at Demyx's neckline, evoking a content sigh.

Demyx's hand was by the hem of his shirt, a short step away from sliding under... but that seemed a little fast for them. Instead he slowly felt over the fabric, going up his stomach and privately praying that he wasn't ticklish.

Zexion broke away from the kiss with a quick breath, just-audible. It was _strange_ , how magnified that touch was... Stranger still how nice it felt to have his neck nuzzled, Demyx making a soft, pleased sound against it. His hand gently massaged its way up to his chest, wanting to touch him 'properly'.

Not even his considerable experience could tell him what that really meant, but _more_ seemed to be as decent a definition as any.

Eyes closed, Zexion brought Demyx a little closer to encourage whatever he was doing against his throat. “Mn-...”

And his eyes reopened in surprise, shocked by himself. Zexion hadn't felt his own vocal chords working, there, hadn't expected himself to make _noise_. Demyx almost paused.

Holy shit he loved that little sound so much that he moaned, in turn. Demyx pressed into him a little, starting to experiment with kisses and soft sucks. The sensation was nice enough – Zexion certainly wouldn't have wanted him to stop – but something about that needy response was even more appealing than the feeling itself, astounding though it was. Maybe it was the tiny swell of pride, knowing he'd physically effected him.

Teeth catching his lower lip, Zexion tilted his head to allow more exploration.

Brain still working overtime when it was normally used to vacating the premises completely (maybe he should tell Zexion about that later, he'd probably find Demyx _thinking_ super-sexy), Demyx reminded himself – no marks, not too eager... He didn't want Zexion overwhelmed. In a bad way.

Check in. Everything seemed to going good, but that was totally what he needed to do.

“Mmn... Still okay?”

There was still a hint of anxiety among Zexion's reactions, but he knew it was only present because he was completely out of his depth. He cataloged it and filed it away, because there were much more important things to address, like the heady and curious _something_ he'd never felt before. It was a definite, if unfamiliar motivator.

“Yes, fine...”

“Cool...” With that reassurance, Demyx started to slide his shirt up. Zexion was a lot less bothered by being uncovered than he would've assumed, even sitting up to make it easier.

That was another interesting factoid for his later write-up.

Demyx sat up as well, thanking him and then blushing as he wondered if it was dumb to _thank_ him. He eased Zexion's shirt off, and out of politeness thought it was best to follow suit. He practically whipped his across the room, and Zexion's visible eye widened a bit.

His hands just sort of... hovered, unsure what to do with them. Demyx was half-naked. Surely he was supposed to do something with that.

Oblivious, Demyx stared in open admiration, awed that his boyfriend was half-naked right in front of him. “Wow...”

Zexion's blush lit up even brighter, and he failed to articulate as well as he hoped to. “What should I...?”

“Huh? Oh-! If y'want to, you can touch...”

That was a little vague. Zexion carefully brought his hands down on Demyx's shoulders. Maybe it was a secret erogenous zone.

Bolder and better at this, Demyx slid closer to practically straddle his lap, tracing a path up Zexion's chest with fingertips. Zexion followed his movements with his eyes, almost twitching when he brushed a nipple on his way up to his collarbone.

That was... unexpectedly affecting.

Demyx's gaze flickered to his face. Grinning, he put a little more pressure against that spot and Zexion moaned softly. Actually, he was a touch panicked by the lack of control he seemed to have over those _sounds_ , but Demyx was obviously pleased by them.

Not just visually obvious.

He'd shifted, accidentally rocking his hips against Zexion with a catch in his breath, and he could certainly _feel that_. His hands tightened on Demyx's shoulders.

“Demyx... is this okay? Is this right?”

All of his research failed to provide him any ideas about how to go about this, in the moment – he was hoping for some direction, or instruction, for he felt like he wasn't doing _enough_ when it was all Demyx feeling up his chest.

“Everything's good...” Resisting the desire to just grind against him more, Demyx nodded and grinned. “I'll tell you if something's wrong, okay?”

“Alright...” He still felt clueless. Zexion wasn't a fan of that part.

Luckily, Demyx leaned over him to resume kissing him, trying to relax him a bit. Zexion was enthusiastic in that, because kissing was something he _understood_ and knew how to do.

Purposely this time, Demyx started to grind against his lap to test his reaction to it. The warmth between Zexion's legs pulsed over him and made his breath hitch, but honestly he more intrigued by the feel of _Demyx_ reacting. He didn't try to move his hips or touch him back, yet, still getting his proverbial footing.

His moans were nice, musical. It made sense that they would be.

Slowly moving against him, Demyx's hand ran down lower to briefly massage Zexion's hip, and was held tighter in response. “Are you, um... I mean, how're you feeling?”

Zexion considered his words carefully, but only managed, “Warm...”

That was so much better than 'this is the worst, let's break up.' Pleased, Demyx nuzzled him again. “That's good... Can I, um, take off more...?”

... Once again, Zexion wasn't uncomfortable with the idea of being naked around him, but he still wasn't sure what to expect. Well, yes, _physically_ , he knew. Obviously. It was only that he'd never been so undressed in front of anyone besides his parents and doctors. This was rather a different scenario altogether, and he had no precedent for how being _looked at_ would feel.

“Yes... I think so.”

Immediately, Demyx started on his pants. “Cool...”

Lifting his hips to assist with their expedient removal, he glanced down at Demyx's jeans around the same time Demyx started reeling with the belated knowledge that he was seeing Zexion _practically naked_.

“... Whoa, uh...” Those were almost words. “... Should I take mine off too? Unless you're not ready to see, that's okay too -”

Sensing an onslaught of babbling, Zexion hushed him with one finger on his lips. “I think I would be more comfortable if you did.”

Demyx reflexively reddened and nodded, going for his zipper. Goodbye, evil prison of denim. His erection was glad to be free of the pressure.

It was also super happy that Zexion decided to help. He carefully tugged to slide them down, unsure of himself but at least able to follow the process of undressing. Automatically, Demyx caught the band of his briefs with his thumb but stopped.

Even if Zexion was comfortable with nudity... What if he didn't like what he saw?

“Um-...”

“It's alright, you can...” Zexion swallowed.

... It was probably fine... Zexion was a scientist. The only person who might've seen weirder dicks was a doctor.

“... Okay...” Nervous, bubbly, and _very_ hard, Demyx started to slip them down to join his jeans on the floor. Zexion's eyes wandered blatantly, and for a moment, his utter impassiveness was the worst thing ever.

It wasn't as though he was seeing anything unexpected, but Zexion couldn't feel so clinically detached because this was _Demyx_ and he knew what this meant to him. Demyx loved sex. It was a base desire, at its core, all gratification and biological impulse, but it was something he _honestly liked_ and he wanted to share that with him.

Somewhat delayed, Zexion blushed and averted his eyes, starting to remove his own undergarments.

This was happening, holy shit, Demyx was kind of dizzy. This was amazing and also kind of unreal, like he was dreaming. Should he offer to help with those, would that be weird or sleazy or...?

Oh god he could see _all of Zexion,_ they were seriously at this point. They were at the sexy stage of their relationship. Demyx hadn't actually ever been sure if it ever would be a 'stage' of their relationship – yeah, actually, this was more like the sexy bonus round.

Too late to help, now. Zexion pretended not to notice the intensity of the stare, sitting back as he slid thin cotton down his legs and set the briefs aside before glancing up.

He was still staring. Normally, that was a little rude and unsettling, but given the circumstances, he'd allow it.

Demyx bit his lip, sliding forward a tiny bit on his knees to carefully run his hands up his legs. Zexion twitched slightly, illogically embarrassed.

Somehow, his legs felt even more sensitive than his chest had been.

Going very slow and swallowing hard, Demyx's hands roved higher up, reaching his thighs and glancing up to check that this was okay. When there was no protest or display of hesitation, Demyx started to wrap his hand around Zexion's cock. It wasn't nearly as hard as his own – totally expected, he wasn't offended – but seemed to react to the contact.

“Still okay?”

A bit tense, Zexion's entire body felt flushed hotter, not having any experience in being touched this way. He'd never even bothered touching his _own_... “Yes. Maybe.”

“You're all tensed up... Want me to stop?”

“No, it-... It feels unusual, is all.”

Demyx leaned over him again to kiss his collarbone, starting to stroke him. “Is it good, though?”

“Mn-...” he choked slightly, then cleared his throat. “Yes, I mean-... yes.”

Nuzzling his throat – Zexion had liked that, before – he stroked him slow and thorough, base to tip. Zexion was hardening steadily in his hand, precum starting to bead at the slit and giving Demyx a powerful sense of accomplishment and want.

“Can I do more?”

Thoughts were increasingly difficult to process. “You can, but you... what about you?”

Demyx shook his head a tiny bit, answering brightly, “Yeah, this... This is good...” He started to sit back up on his knees, only to move back and over the side of the bed. Zexion's eyes widened a little bit, determining quickly what the next step meant.

He placed a light kiss to the top, and although Zexion understood oral sex, he'd had no basis to predict how it would feel. His lips were soft, the pressure was different -

Zexion watched with another small moan, and Demyx parted his lips to suck. He didn't take too much of him, yet, just in case Zexion wanted him to stop... But this was so much more satisfying than blowing any other guy had ever been and he couldn't even explain why.

As an afterthought, Demyx held down his hips. Just in case. Zexion probably wouldn't buck up or anything, but it might actually make him feel better if he didn't have to wonder what to do with his hips.

Zexion distantly made a note of the tremor that went through his body, one hand gripping the covers while the other slid back into Demyx's hair. He was swallowing him to the very base, and the _warmth_...

Demyx inwardly gave himself a pat on the back, pleased that he wasn't totally out of practice with deep-throating. He started to move his head up and down, moving to a rhythm no one else could hear, and this was so _hot_ to be doing and Demyx was light-headed because he kept forgetting to breathe but it was a nice sort of fuzziness, and he was so aroused that he ached.

He needed to be touched, just a little...

Fingers curled in Demyx's hair – not directing him, just holding on. Zexion groaned and shivered, almost surprised that he was capable when he was so overheated but supposing he shouldn't be.

“ _Mmn_...”

Zexion responded with a murmur of his name, hardly thinking anymore. Warmth built up fast between Demyx's legs, and he almost didn't realize that he was close until he'd reached between them and stroked his cock once, twice. The bandage felt weird and had come a little loose but if it hurt, Demyx didn't feel it and didn't care.

He was on the brink and moaning, and Zexion tried to push his hips up from the bed, feeling the vibration. He hardly even realized he was doing it.

Demyx sucked harder, blush burning hot, and he spilled into his hand with a strong wave of heat that was _way too much_ and _so much better than jacking off, oh my god_.

Which shouldn't even make sense because technically what he just did, but it was different. _So different_.

“Dem-... Demyx...” Zexion began to sit up a little, flustered and overwhelmed by the building heat. He was starting to tremble, alarmed over how little control he had over his body and thinking he should rein himself back in. Panting, Demyx drew back and licked his lips.

“Mn-...” Breathless, he stroked him. “It's okay, please come, I want to see...”

Being asked like that... Zexion wasn't going to say no. He made himself relax, felt his legs shake harder, and he lost himself to the feeling.

He arched, exhaled heavily with his orgasm, and it didn't last long but it left him totally winded. Demyx bit lip, enraptured all the while.

Slowly, Demyx withdrew his hand – oh, okay, _ow_ his wrist _really_ hurt but who even cared – and looked for tissues to clean it off. Good thing there were plenty.

He wanted to say something sweet, let Zexion know everything that meant to him.

“You're... Wow. That was so wow.”

... Those were _words_ , so close enough!

Zexion didn't know how to come down from _feeling_ like that, left a little twitchy in the aftermath. “You liked that...?”

He nodded, still trying to catch his breath. “That was so hot... You're so sexy...”

Demyx nuzzled his thigh, and he reddened. Zexion still couldn't grasp what 'sexy' meant, exactly, but knowing that'd been what Demyx wanted helped him ease back down to earth... And honestly, so did the affectionate contact.

Starting to relax and feel surprisingly calm, Zexion exhaled. “I'm glad...”

With a grin, Demyx kissed his leg and gingerly cleaned off the pair of them, tossing tissues into the wastebasket and falling onto the bed beside him.

“You okay?” he inquired. “I mean... Was that okay for _you?_ ”

“It wasn't what I expected, I admit...” Zexion started to reach for his clothes. Demyx did no such thing, quite comfortable naked, but sat up a little.

“In a bad way?”

“In a good way. It was... nice.”

Even to his own ears, that sounded a bit flat – the sort of thing one might say upon receiving a gift they had no interest in, but wanted to sound polite. He hoped Demyx didn't take it that way.

Relieved, Demyx dropped down again. “It was...”

With the heat of the moment passed... Zexion thought 'nice' summed it up. While he wasn't a particular fan of the way he lost control of himself – it felt a little unseemly, regardless of whether or not that was the point – nothing had felt unpleasant, his emotional responses were mostly positive, and orgasm was...

Well, it was _nice_. Simultaneously overwhelming and underwhelming. He would never voice that, for fear of hurting Demyx's feelings... He could tell from an objective standpoint that Demyx was _good_ at sex. Orgasms just weren't something he saw himself desperately needing or wanting. But for the time being he was left... contented.

He would need to write everything down as soon as possible. Best take down as much of the experience while it was still fresh in his mind.

But... maybe not right away... Wiped off or not, he still felt unpleasantly sticky with sweat and a bit like his clothes didn't fit anymore.

“I think I'll take a shower, if that's alright.”

“Sure!” Demyx sat up again, properly now. “D'you wanna do something after? ... And wrap up my wrist again?”

They both shot sheepish glances at his wrist. Zexion blushed again.

“Oh. Yes. I honestly forgot about that...”

“Heh, me too...”

“I can take care of that after, yes,” Zexion agreed, taking a clean towel off the hanging pegs on the door. Shower, tending to Demyx's wrists, and _then_ notes...

If there was any data he thought was inconclusive or misremembered, he at least wouldn't mind doing this again.

 

* * *

 

It turned out that organizing a designated sexy-time was a really awkward thing to do, even for people who were as comfortable with one another as Terra and Ven. Physically ( _platonically_ physically) they had no boundaries, and they'd always been pretty good about getting their emotions out there. Actually... maybe too good. Terra tended towards the dramatic when he got broody, and Ven's heart had relocated from his chest because the view from his sleeve was nicer.

There was really no excuse for the two of them avoiding the topic, but they both got tongue-tied over the question, 'Do you think now is a good time to see you naked?'

 _Now_ would have been as good a time as any. They were alone on Terra's couch, watching a movie they'd already seen before – Terra was stretched out with one leg over the side to keep them comfortable, and Ven was draped on top of him in a position he thought of as entirely innocent, as it might've been with a family member. There was a difference or two, in that Terra's muscles were a lot more interesting than, for example, Roxas or Sora's, and Ven probably wouldn't have been compelled to brush mindless patterns over the chest of anyone else he knew.

But, overall, neither of them thought of it as sexual, and it wasn't on their minds. Thus, no one brought it up.

Ven was feeling a little odd, though. He was almost lethargic, if not for the strangely restless and tingly feeling through his extremities.

He was just so warm, content, comfortable. And Terra's hand was nice, going up and down his back like that. Ven closed his eyes and let out a slow, heavy breath, an altogether satisfied sigh that sent heat traveling south pretty rapidly through Terra's body.

Not that sex was on either of their minds.

Ven's drifting fingers became a little more bold with their exploration, becoming a more purposeful touch. The thought of sitting up a little and kissing Terra had popped into his head, not at all unwelcome... That was an innocent enough thing, too, after all. They kissed all the time.

“Mn...” Terra's eyes almost closed as Ven pushed his fingers back up to trace a prominent pectoral muscle, pulling his shirt up in the process.

What a nice, totally non-suggestive sound. Ven shifted, stirred by the noise, and looked up at Terra with darkened blue eyes. Terra parted his lips to speak, but forgot what he might say.

Now that he thought about it... Dim lighting, all alone, worked up by sensuous touches... Nudity _could_ be a thing.

Damn it, but he didn't know how to come right out and say that. Terra's hand slid slowly down his back.

Thoughtlessly taking that as an invitation, Ven closed the gap between them to kiss him and was met with more fervor than was intentional. Both hands pressed into Terra's chest, lightly firm, and he tilted his head with a pleased sound – someone had just cranked the heat up by at least ten degrees.

“Mm...” Terra placed a hand against the back of Ven's neck, accepting his invitation to deepen the kiss more. He felt the heat but he was trying not to let himself forget that they were taking this in _stages_.

Stage one was... They'd established what that was, right?

The slight pressure urged Ven to press himself more eagerly into the kiss, parting his lips in the slightest prompt. Terra hummed his contentment against his lips, winding his arm around him to keep Ven safe and close.

Ven was all the more comfortable, like this. Enough so not to really notice his budding erection, or recognize arousal for what it was.

Fingers bluntly pressing into hard muscle, he drew a moan out of Terra, who sucked at his lower lip in reflex. Ven shivered, getting a _rush_ that was kind of electric – that was a whole new thing – and he restlessly shifted until his half-hard member pressed against Terra's hip.

Through layers of clothing, which made the pressure kind of unbearable, but he'd also given himself what he wanted and _that_ felt good.

If Terra hadn't been so turned on, surprise probably would have called the whole thing off and rescheduled, but instead he sat up a little and dragged Ven with him. The adjustment pushed them flush together, and Ven seized the opportunity to wrap his arms around his shoulders.

Except _friction_ , good friction. Ven had practically grinded on him in the process and that was _just grand_.

He moaned and Terra had to break the kiss, kind of shocked.

“God, Ven-...”

That wasn't really the proclamation of shock he'd meant to express. Ven met his eyes, breathing uneven and blushing bright red.

Likewise, he wasn't used to hearing Terra like that.

Moving on from the 'shock' thing, Terra tried to calmly say that maybe they should slow down, have a quick talk to make sure that _now_ was a good time. Sex had been hanging over them like a really determined rain cloud, except instead of a cold shower it'd pelted them with pheromones... But still, maybe Ven hadn't come over with that in mind.

Terra's brilliant attempt at words involved his mouth against Ven's again.

“ _Nn!_ ” Ven held him tighter and squirmed for lack of any other knowledge about what he should be doing, the kiss heated and his erection now insistent. Unthinkingly, Terra began to position them to press Ven back against the couch. It was a little disorienting for a second, but Ven rolled with it and started tugging at Terra's shirt.

That should be gone. Terra should be on top of him a little more, but without the shirt, that was what was wrong with this picture.

It took Terra a few moments to catch on, during that time Ven couldn't complain (because his mouth was being otherwise hotly occupied), but he sat up and obliged when it started to feel like Ven would _rip_ it off him.

Ven's eyes widened. He'd seen Terra shirtless before... _Plenty_ of times. His shirts were often so tight anyway that even when he was dressed, it was kind of like he was seeing him topless anyway. Still, this felt totally different, and he pressed his hands to bare skin.

He was surprised it was so hot.

“Nngh-... Ven...” That was either a prelude to saying they should slow down, or goading him to touch more, and Terra honestly wasn't sure which one. It was more the latter. Luckily, that was how Ven took it.

Hearing his name like that made Ven arch his hips up, needy, and run his hands down his back. A little more difficult than feeling up his chest, in that he had to reach around his bulk to do it and Terra was sort of triangular with those broad shoulders...

“Nn...” Like he just couldn't help himself, Terra dropped his hips against Ven's to rock against him, and that was _so much better_ than what he'd been trying to do, holy shit. Ven's head tilted back with a loud groan.

“... Terra...”

“Yeah...” he exhaled sharply, pressing himself lower on top of Ven.

Whatever he'd been about to tell him, Ven immediately forgot. He clung and arched up against him, pulse racing.

“Ven, are you...” Terra shuddered, groaning. “Is now... Should we be, now?”

He didn't pause in touching Terra for even a moment, breathless. “Now... seems like a pretty good time... You don't think so?”

“It's really hard to say 'no' when you're... doing that...” Terra swallowed hard, lips brushing Ven's. “And I don't _want_ to say no...”

“I think m'ready to try something...”

There was the potential stopping factor plaguing Terra. “What 'something'...?”

Just _going_ with it hadn't given him a lot to look up. Sure, he'd tried, but he'd gotten embarrassed.

“I, um...” Ven's blush darkened as he muttered, “You know, _something_.”

“Do you... have an _idea_ of what you want, or...” Terra trailed off, putting a scant amount of distance between their mouths because that wasn't helping him concentrate at all. “I don't want to push you too far...”

“Well...” Ven diverted to save himself. “What do _you_ want?”

Resting his forehead gently against Ven's – mostly because it was really hard to just keep kissing someone when doing so; no one wanted a bashed nose, that was a mood killer – he sighed. “I... don't know. I tried not to really... plan anything, before you turned eighteen, and then it was hard to just _find stuff_ without also finding... _stuff_.”

It took Ven a minute to understand the nuances between 'stuff' and 'stuff'. If burying his face was an option, he would have. “Just want to feel... better...”

Slightly embarrassed (and trying to act as though he wasn't), Terra pulled away to cautiously drag a hand down Ven's body. “I can, uh...”

He was jittery from nerves, but responsive. Terra was starting to feel down across his stomach, over his hips and -

“Oh -”

That was a completely unfamiliar _and awesome_ touch. His clothed length was being stroked, and Ven's cock twitched and hardened more in enthusiastic need. Terra was a little mesmerized, reveling in the knowledge that he could turn Ven on like this.

He was quiet, and trying not to groan, himself. “Can I take these off?”

“Um...” Ven bit his lip. “You're gonna... look?”

It seemed _sensible_ to do this without clothes, like they'd established before... But in the moment, all flushed with heat and needing _whatever_ , it was kind of embarrassing. Really embarrassing. Kind of stressful, too. What if Terra took off Ven's clothes and then laughed because he wasn't as muscular? Or what if Ven just looked weird naked, and he'd never realized because he'd never seen anyone _else_ naked?!

Wait, he'd seen Roxas naked all the time growing up and no one seemed to think anything was wrong with him.

Oh, god, what if he looked _just like Roxas_ naked?!

“Not if you don't want me to...” Terra hesitated. “I can leave them on, if you want...”

“No... i-it's okay,” Ven swallowed his nerves and shook his head vehemently.

“... You sure?” Terra was having concerns on a different end of the spectrum. Like, what if he just _looked_ at Ven naked and... had a reaction of the premature kind? For one thing, that'd be _humiliating_... For another, probably vaguely creepy.

“Yeah... They're getting kind of uncomfortable, anyway...”

Well. For the sake of his boyfriend's comfort, then. Terra could take any risk if it meant Ven's happiness.

He went slow in case he changed his mind, undoing the fly. Ven's breathing quickened, nerves in full-fledged force just _waiting_ to spit in his face and chant 'I told you so', because this was nothing like being undressed to the point of bathing suits.

Terra stopped with Ven's jeans partially down his thighs, not yet removing the briefs. “Still okay?”

Just don't stare, don't make it weird... His erection visibly strained against the thin fabric, but don't _look_ too much...

“Yeah,” Ven breathed, kind of astounded that nothing scary had happened yet. “I'm okay.”

Terra leaned down to kiss him again, impulsively fondling his cock through his briefs and evoking a shuddering mewl – Ven pressed into his hand and his lips, and Terra groaned as his head spun. It was kind of... unexpected, how much he liked making him _react_.

If it weren't for curiosity, he probably would have kept doing just that. But Ven probably could feel even better, and Terra needed to know what that was like.

Rubbing his palm against him, Terra gingerly hooked his fingertips in the waistband and pulled them slowly down to expose Ven.

He tensed a little. He was afraid to look down and watch Terra do it, but it was almost more nerve-wracking to see his expression. It wasn't like either of them could get a good look, yet, anyway – Terra hadn't stopped kissing him, despite the overwhelming temptation to get an eyeful.

The kiss was softer, too, hoping to soothe Ven a little. Steadily getting the idea that nothing earth-shattering happened, Ven reached up to hold onto him again, and shifted so Terra's fingers could brush his arousal.

It was all okay, so far... Go figure.

Terra pulled his clothing a little more out of the way and broke the kiss at last to see him. All thoughts of 'don't stare' flew out the window, and the uncomfortable pressure between his legs urgently demanded he pay attention.

Ven was kind of beautiful. Or, really beautiful.

That'd probably be a weird thing to say.

A little anxiously, Ven glanced up and down Terra's body. “O-okay. You, too.”

Once they were both naked and touching, what would that count as? Ven wasn't sure what actually _counted_ as sex, and when they'd be doing it.

Despite almost hesitating, Terra began to unlace his hakama. Ven considered taking over that task for him, but quickly lost his nerve, instead watching as though entranced.

Terra felt a bit like he'd be _violating_ Ven in some way if he saw his erection, but it wasn't really fair not to. It might actually be more not-okay if Ven was the only one undressed, now that he thought about it. He stripped them off very slowly, shooting him frequent glances to make sure this was okay.

Ven was staring with faint envy in the back of his mind. Terra was all smooth, deep lines... He _wished_ he could build muscle like that. If he weren't so attracted to him, Ven would've shriveled up and nursed the blow to his self-esteem.

And he hadn't even taken off his boxers, yet.

Lightly, Terra ran his hand over his hip, not sure how to interpret his expression. “If you want to change your mind...”

“I'm okay,” he nodded stiffly – he definitely didn't want Terra to put clothes back _on_. It was just still kind of surreal that they were both nearly naked in the same room, kind of pressed together, and was _this_ sex or...?

Kissing Ven just to reassure himself this was alright, Terra felt distinct relief when he unfroze and began massaging the back of his neck with a hum. Slowly, he wrapped a large hand around Ven's cock and aligned their hips a little better.

“Nngh...” Boldly (or, Ven assumed he was being bold) he trailed his fingers over the edge of Terra's boxers, parting from the kiss to look down.

Moment of truth.

Terra guided him to strip them off, and Ven blushed about ten times harder when they almost caught on the head of his erection. He glanced up at him quickly, seeking some kind of confirmation... or comfort.

“This is good...” Terra brushed his lips over Ven's forehead, trying to sound like he was even vaguely in control of himself. “Just this...”

“This...” Ven echoed, a little relieved. Terra eased his boxers down just enough to wind his hand around both erections, keeping them together as he started to stroke.

“Ngh-... Just like-...”

“ _Ah_...” Every thought was wiped right out of Ven's head and he parted his legs more. The only thing that made sense anymore was how warm and strong his hand was, and reacting, keep reacting so he'd keep going. Terra groaned, burying his face briefly into his hair and moaning his name, hand moving slowly and steadily.

Ven had the faintest feeling he couldn't shake of doing something wrong and dirty, but ultimately it didn't matter because everything else was just _too good_. Shaking, he drew his hands up to tilt Terra's jaw, wanting to kiss him and eagerly met. Their moans mingled, almost impossible to tell who's pleasure was whose anymore, and Ven carefully started to move his hips with him.

Everything stuttered – that felt too good and too hot, Terra couldn't even parse through that. Ven murmured his name between kisses, so _sweetly_...

God, Ven was so sweet and so pure and suddenly Terra was back to the worry and self-chastising. It infringed on his pleasure a little, but that was honestly less his concern no matter what was happening.

He propped himself up enough to cup Ven's cheek affectionately, which kind of helped ground Ven through his light-headedness.

“Ngh-... Ven...”

He met Terra's gaze with glazed, wide eyes, panting hard. The most erotic sight Terra had ever seen and that was suddenly _terrifying_.

Never in his entire life had he ever wanted someone _so badly_ , but... “I think-... Nngh, I shouldn't be...”

Terra licked his lips and shuddered. He hadn't realized how close he was to the edge.

“It feels... nice,” Ven turned his face away, embarrassed, breathless.

On impulse, Terra wrapped his hand around Ven's cock alone and stroked him, intent on his expression and not much else. This... This felt better, in his head. He wanted to please _him_ , he didn't think it was okay yet for him to get off but _Ven_ , god he wanted Ven to.

He was still achingly tempted, but he could wait. Firmly, he told himself that he could wait.

Not totally aware of what the movement below was, Ven lifted his legs higher and flank him and tried to keep a moan quiet. Terra was quick to aid, kissing him deeply for as long as they both had air.

In other words, not very long.

Ven was trembling, not entirely certain what his body was building up to but it was definitely _happening_ and he was a little scared of it. He gripped his arm and whimpered, “Terra...”

It was _fast_ and _hot_ and it was kind of overwhelming, _really overwhelming_...

“It's okay, just... let it...” Terra stole another brief kiss, pumping him faster. “Relax...”

That was all he needed. Ven trusted him.

And the pressure, no matter how dizzying, felt _really good_.

“Ngh, _ahh_ -...” Ven cried out sharply and pushed hard up into his hand, and without thinking, Terra slowed. His eyes were wide, watching Ven through his orgasm and completely entranced.

Forget beautiful. Ven was _magnificent_.

Ven felt like he was spiraling back to Earth and clung to Terra, counting on him to bring him down gently. That was... it was safe to say he'd never felt _anything_ like that before.

Maybe he should have tried masturbating, first.

Dizzy as his high faded, Ven didn't notice that Terra was still hard and fighting with himself over touching Ven any more than he was. He kissed Terra's cheek as his lungs began to sort out between themselves how that whole breathing thing worked.

“... Mn...” Terra wasn't on track with that, yet. His breathing was still a little shallow, winded by his nagging arousal.

Not realizing, Ven anxiously questioned, “Was that... okay?”

With a faint grin, Terra nodded, and took deep breaths to get his lust under control. “Yeah... Well-... How do you feel?”

“Um, good,” he was relieved. “Tired. But that wasn't too fast, was it?”

Thank _god_ , Terra hadn't tainted him. He grinned more, starting to feel a kind of lazy contentment warming him in a much more familiar way. “It's fine. I, uh-... I didn't, but I don't want to.”

It was a half-truth, but one he felt better for telling.

With a quick glance down, Ven understood. “Ohh.”

That was probably for the better, because he felt too nervous to do anything about Terra's arousal anyway.

“You want me to get you anything?”

“I want you to stay here, if that's okay...” Ven kind of just wanted to snuggle him for the rest of forever, which was more than alright with Terra.

The only part that was a bit of a shame was that he wouldn't be able to go take care of this, himself... And Ven's face when he climaxed was still at the forefront of his mind.

But snuggling was good. They repositioned themselves once their underwear was back on, and almost without thinking, they'd taken up their former positions on Terra's couch with Ven stretched out over him. Just, with considerably less clothes, and a mass of sullied tissues on the coffee table.

And it was comfortable. Mostly.

Except, Ven went back to tracing gentle patterns on his naked chest, and in the new context between them, the touches felt a lot like teasing. At least, they did until Ven drifted off, face like an angel.

It took a lot longer for Terra's erection to die down, and he felt uncomfortably like the devil for daring to touch him in the first place.

He hadn't actually been ready, after all. He just wished he'd known that beforehand.


	18. Handsome Anvils, Blonde Cookies

In order to keep both parties clear-headed for the impending conversation, Axel forwent leather and wore a proper winter coat. Left hanging open, obviously, because he didn't want to bring on heatstroke or something. The additional downside (apart from looking distinctly less badass) was that he had to take the bus over to Roxas's, which took so long that he might as well have walked to begin with.

If it weren't for his _mission_ , he would have just stayed home. But this was the sort of conversation that just wouldn't work over text, and it would have been downright inconsiderate to call Roxas when he knew damn well how he made his living.

Tone was going to be everything, here. Axel had questions, and he _possibly_ had answers. This was going to be rough.

After checking that there were no cars in the driveway to indicate the presence of parents – there were not – he rang the doorbell, took a deep breath, and waited.

Use the wait to get pumped. Get _determined_. Find some resolve, get hyped, he could _fuckin' do this_ -

To his relief, it was seemingly Roxas who answered the door, a little out of breath and wearing hakama. Without waiting for an invitation, Axel walked in past him and started to remove his coat. Below freezing, and he was still sweltering, go figure.

“Hey – we've got to talk.”

Recognizing him from that one awkward time before, Ventus stepped aside and blankly greeted, “Oh, hi, um...”

Man, he was the worst at names. Had Ven ever actually been introduced to him? He _thought_ he'd heard it, at least, it was something like... Lea... Maybe?

Not having noticed the semi-vacant expression of thought on Ven's face, Axel launched right into it while he found somewhere to drop his coat. “Being friends, obviously, is a bust. Or, leaving it as 'only friends' is. But, before we figure our thing out, I've got to know what the dating issue really is, or this is just going to keep driving me insane...”

Briefly floored, Ven stammered, “Um. D-did you want to talk to Roxas?”

Axel stopped, and sighed. “... Wrong triplet, huh.”

“Yeah...” Ventus felt a little bad, shifting his weight. Which was a shame, because only moments ago he'd been bright and perky, and rushed to the door expecting his two very best friends in the whole world. “Roxas isn't home right now...”

Good thing Axel hadn't taken off his shoes yet. He ruffled up the hair at the back of his head, awkward.

“... Mind if I wait around?”

“It's okay with me. If you want to watch TV or something, or if you're hungry...” Ven trailed off, moving in to close the door behind him. “My friends are coming over in a little while.”

Roxas probably wasn't going to take _too_ long to get home, then. Axel had kind of guessed at his work schedule, but this was what he got for not texting. Maybe he'd taken some extra hours.

“Sure. TV's fine.” Axel started to remove his shoes.

Ven nodded. “... Sora's around, too, just so you know.”

“Oh, cool,” Axel relaxed marginally and fished out his phone, shooting Sora a text to let him know he was in the house. Thank god there was one family member around that he hadn't totally alienated on the street, once.

No immediate response, though. Shame. Didn't Sora have anything better to do than check his phone instantly and come downstairs to hang out with their uninvited guest?

Unexpectedly and inadvertently, Ven wound up following Axel to the living room to keep him company anyway. It just felt kind of rude and weird to leave Axel to his own devices, when it was in his own house. As the two of them settled into the couch and respectful distance apart, Axel started to eye him and Ven could almost feel the comparison coming.

“... You really are _scary_ similar. Your boyfriend ever mix you two up?”

“Not anymore,” Ven sank back into the arrangement of throw pillows. “He did at first a lot, but he says he can tell now just by looking or hearing. But I'm not sure because he still mixes us up sometimes when Roxas answers the phone.”

“That makes me feel a little better. How long've you been dating?”

Ven counted back in his head, considering. “Two years and three months,” he announced, nodding.

Axel grinned. “Then I feel _much_ better.”

Bet he never publicly and wrongly accused Ven of cheating, but pretty much everyone in the world had a one-up on him there.

Completely innocently, Ven inquired, “How long have you been dating Roxas?”

“I'm not. We're not a thing. Even though, factors included, I still think it would make a lot of sense for us to be.”

“Oh... So you came here to ask him to go out with you?”

“It's a long story.”

Ven _looked_ at him, as expectant as a preschooler being given a snack and told to sit on the mat with the other children because it's _story time_. Axel sighed.

“... Uh-... Well, we do... stuff couples do... without the actual dating, because he refuses for god-knows-what-reason.”

He got the validity of the aromantic thing, but he wasn't asking for _romance_ anymore... And that wasn't something he wanted to talk about with Roxas's family, anyway. He had no idea whether or not they knew about that.

The implication of what 'couples do' sailed right over Ven's head like a frisbee. “Yeah, it seems like Roxas hasn't had a boyfriend in a long time, for all the guys I think he likes...”

Holy shit, a possible lead. “Wait – so... He _did_ have a boyfriend, before?”

“Um, I think so?” Ven looked suddenly unsure. “Maybe...”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “Roxas didn't say... He just stopped coming over, and then after that Roxas started seeing a lot of guys for not very long.”

“... Interesting.” So there _had been_ one asshole.

“But that was like... more than a year ago.”

“At least that confirms that it's some kind of hang-up,” Axel muttered. “Just got to prove I'm not like whoever the hell his ex is.”

Then they could have something different. Maybe not dating as Axel knew it, but he wasn't so sure he even wanted that anymore. He just wanted Roxas.

“I don't remember his name exactly,” Ven's brow furrowed, pensive. “Roxas wouldn't mention it after that... It was like, Anvil... or Answer... or Handsome...”

Axel stared. “... Huh. Okay.”

“Something like that,” Ven concluded with a confident nod.

“So _something_ went down with this Handsome guy. That doesn't bode well.”

“I don't know, really. Maybe they just broke up.”

“He hasn't dated anyone since...” Axel tilted his head back, thinking. If 'Handsome' had been really controlling... Well, Axel could relate to that. Saix had made him feel like he had to lie, even when he wasn't doing anything wrong. Hell, he'd gotten into the habit of lying to _everyone_ , just to play it safe, just to make sure he was still in Saix's good graces. So many friendships had been assassinated and sent downriver, beyond salvaging...

Maybe Roxas had been through something similar.

Ven was almost squirming. “... So, if you're not dating, does that mean you haven't-... You know...”

Straightening up, Axel glanced at him and almost snickered. Ven was blushing and looking at the floor, which was both bizarre and adorable. He could _not_ laugh, though. He felt strangely as though he'd be emotionally shit-kicking a kitten, if he mocked Ventus.

“Uh... No, we've had sex.”

“Oh,” his blush burned darker. “Then can I ask you-... No, I shouldn't. I don't even know you, really...”

Sure, he couldn't ask his _parents_ , and he didn't think Sora would know, and Roxas would just make fun of him or act disgusted. Maybe both. Aqua would be on par with asking his mom and dad, in terms of discomfort...

“You've got me curious, now.”

“Well, just...” Ven hesitated. “No one's told me, so... How do you know when you've actually-... Um...”

Axel waved a hand, gesturing for him to elaborate after ten seconds of silence. Ven dropped his voice, almost whispering.

“When you've had sex...”

Holy shit, it was so hard not to smirk or laugh. “Uh, mutual orgasms are generally involved, following _someone_ being wrapped around the other guy's dick, if those are involved.”

Most embarrassing question ever. Ven squirmed again. “Oh... Wait, someone?”

“Well, either you, or him. One of you'd be taking it, the other guy would be doing the dicking.”

Okay, he sort of got that. He knew the basic idea. “So... Anything else less than that isn't really sex? It doesn't count?”

“It counts, just, y'know. As other stuff. Oral's sex, frotting's sex... But society would still technically consider you a virgin until the full-on's happened.”

As far as Ven was aware, Axel had not started speaking a foreign language or in gibberish, but he may as well have been for all he understood. “Sorry?”

“... You... seriously don't know any of this?” Axel was baffled. They _had_ the Internet in their house, didn't they? Axel's phone had connected to it, there was proof.

“School only teaches the boy-and-girl stuff.”

It was so... _weird_ , talking to a version of Roxas's face about sex stuff he _didn't know_. “Maybe you should ask your boyfriend for a demonstration.”

“... I can't.”

“Why not? No sex before marriage?”

“Not 'til I'm eighteen at least.”

“Right...” Axel nodded. Made sense. If he recalled correctly, the studmuffin was older. “That's rough.”

“He just wants me to be ready...” Ven explained, as though one was needed.

“Oh, that's imposed by _him?_ ” That certainly made the age gap a little less worrisome.

“Not _just_ by him. I think it's a good idea, too.”

“If that's how it is, and you want to at least figure out what some guys do to each other... There's always porn,” Axel shrugged.

“I couldn't-...!”

There was a knock on the door, and Ven's protest cut short. His face lit up, like someone had thrown a switch and turned his whole life around.

“I think that's them!” Ven jumped to his feet.

“If you say so... You could watch porn together,” Axel called after him. “Make it a couple's experience.”

When Ven opened the door, it was with a wide grin and a violent blush.

“Hi, guys!”

Terra and Aqua were actually the ones at the door this time, and both saw completely different things first.

“Hey... You must have been practicing,” Aqua noticed the hakama.

“Pretty hard, I'm guessing...” Terra, instead, noticed the flush on his face with a bit of concern. “Glad we showed up when we did, looks like you could use a break.”

“Ye-eah... Pretty hard...” Ven laughed, though he was still in the process of shaking off the whole 'adult movie date' suggestion. “I'm just trying to catch up with you two.”

Aqua shook her head a bit, smiling. “Well, take it easy.”

Ven stepped aside to let them in and was greeted more affectionately, one of Terra's hands resting on his shoulder as he gave him a quick forehead-kiss. Ven grinned, eyes closing briefly like a cat basking in sunlight.

“It's been two years,” Aqua pointed out, sidling past them to remove her shoes. “You _can_ kiss.”

Okay, it was true that they were a little shy with their affection when Aqua was around, still. Terra was thankful he didn't blush very easily, though. He cleared his throat sheepishly, then tilted Ven's chin up to kiss him properly. Hands went to hold onto Terra's wrist lightly, Ven's responsive noise pleased in the most innocent way.

She said it was okay so they weren't going to _refuse_. Terra _wanted_ to kiss his boyfriend. That was number one on his list of favorite activities. Conveniently, Ven was in the same boat, on a romantic cruise for two.

Aqua worked on the zippers and straps of her complicated shoes, politely not watching her two best friends. She was prepared to separate them if it became necessary, but Terra didn't let himself get carried away. The kiss remained chaste, and he (reluctantly) broke away with a fond grin.

That was when Axel finally found what he was looking for. He'd taken up channel surfing and stumbled on a really cheesy-looking action movie midway through its standard scene depicting Hollywood heterosexual lovemaking.

He amped up the volume, and the living room was blasted with dramatized feminine moans which spilled out into the hallway.

Aqua looked up sharply.

Perhaps unnecessarily, Ven leapt back a little with wide eyes and protested, “It's not me!”

Terra just looked perplexed. “...That's not... Sora watching -?”

“No... Roxas's, um... friend, is over...”

Maternal concern laced through Aqua's tone like ribbon through a corset. “And he's watching that with the two of you in the house?”

“That's... uncomfortable,” Terra muttered.

The music had done that orchestral swell and the dialogue was starting again, which at least diffused the discomfiting idea that someone was watching porn in a public forum. Still, Ven covered his face, embarrassed.

“So, what d'you guys want to do?” he asked, muffled by palms.

Terra awkwardly put his hands in his pockets. “... Before, we were thinking we could all go out back to train, but I don't want to exhaust you.”

“I still want to!” Ven immediately declared. “I'm not tired at all!”

“It's not good if you wear yourself out,” Aqua reminded him, and she still had that aura of disapproval. It wasn't directed at either of them, but their sensitivity to it meant that any veto from her was worth three votes to the minority's two.

“We'll relax instead,” Terra suggested. “Besides, you were really red – you must've been working hard.”

By that point, Aqua was starting to pick up on the fact that Ven's flushed face might have been the product of embarrassment instead of exertion, but kindly did not say so. Ven cleared his throat, facing the grave repercussions for his lie. No recreational labor, for him.

Ven cleared his throat. “I guess I can take a break.”

“Your room, then?” Aqua knew his parents wouldn't mind Terra's presence up there if she was also around to supervise.

“My room's kinda small for the three of us, but I guess so.” The living room was otherwise occupied, so that was a no-go.

“It's not like any of us need a lot of personal space,” Terra ruffled his hair, shoes ditched next to Aqua's. Ven grinned, communicating his intentions in that unnerving telepathic way long-term couples tended to. Terra's lap was the optimum location for chaste snuggling, so like, why would he ever sit anywhere else.

Sora bounded down the stairs, nearly headlong into the leader of the procession.

“Ax – Oh, hi Aqua!” he swerved _almost_ into the wall in his rush, leaping the last few steps. “Axel, I just got your text right now!”

Terra, who had already forgotten that name, just waited for the Sora-storm to pass before following Ven up the stairs.

Axel had lowered the volume to the dullest of roars and started channel surfing, now that he'd done his part and interjected more innuendo into a couple's dynamic. He'd started off making things awkward with Ven and Terra, and damn it, he was going to _commit_ to that role.

“Hey!” he called back, putting the volume down even lower. “Distracted chatting up the boyfriend?”

“Nah,” Sora laughed, bounding over to the living room. “He's not allowed to have his phone out during rehab stuff, so I kind of just ignore mine 'til it's over. He always calls on the way home.”

How sweet. And clingy. Axel decided to express the 'sweet' sentiment with a congratulatory grin. “That's looking up.”

“I know!” Sora practically skipped over to sit on the couch with him. “So what are you doing here?”

“Waiting on Roxas to have an undoubtedly awkward conversation that might escalate to yelling.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds like Roxas...”

“Yeah, it should be an event.” Making himself at home, Axel put his feet up on the coffee table. “How've you and loverboy been?”

Privately, Sora kind of preened, as he did every time someone acknowledged his relationship aloud. “Great! Really great. He still has to go to the clinic every weekday, but he stays with me when he's not there. We even got him furniture.”

 _Roxas's_ furniture.

“Your parents are cool with that?”

“... Kinda.”

Axel gave him a knowing look. “Is it the recovering addict thing, or sex?”

He'd meant it semi-jokingly, but Sora laughed nervously. “Both? They know he needs a place to stay and they're okay with that, but they don't want us sharing a bed or anything...”

“... You doing it anyway?”

“... One time.”

“Very nice,” he commended. “You do that young-and-in-love thing.”

Sora blushed, pleased. “Heh. What about you and Roxas?”

“Not to be cliche and dramatic... But it's complicated.”

Scooting up next to him, Sora turned expectant eyes on him, and Axel was hit with the most aggressive deja vu ever. Hair aside, he looked exactly like Ven when silently awaiting a tale of drama and woe.

He groaned. Where was he supposed to find the power to resist that look _twice?_

“We're friends. We've almost got that figured out. We're just also...” he trailed off briefly. “For a _while_ we stopped, y'know. Fooling around. That didn't last.”

Sora's eyebrows went up in surprise. “How long did you do that?”

“Weeks.”

The astonishment was evident. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sora shook his head quickly. “That's just kind of surprising, for Roxas.”

“I get it...” Axel sighed. He was second-guessing the wisdom in being here.

“You think you can work things out with Roxas?”

It seemed kind of stupid to say, now. “I've got ideas, maybe... I still want the full picture, though. Whatever 'Handsome Anvil' did clearly messed up his ideas of fidelity...”

Sora laughed. “What?”

“Ven mentioned a guy... 'Anvil' or 'Handsome',” Axel explained.

“ _Oh_. You mean Ansem.”

Holy shit, a name?

“Ansem?” Axel repeated, committing it to memory. “Who is he?”

Frowning, Sora shrugged. “I'm not totally sure. I know he was a guy Roxas was with last year, but I don't know if he was his boyfriend or anything.”

“Damn...” Axel sighed. He'd have to find out more later. “... Anyway... Ansem aside, I think we can maybe figure out something. The issue is being with other guys, right? He doesn't want to stop sleeping around.”

“I guess. I keep trying to tell him I worry about him doing that, but he doesn't want to listen to me...”

“That's Roxas for you...”

“I'd feel a lot better if Roxas was just with you,” Sora declared. “You seem a lot nicer than the other guys I've met... I'm rooting for you.”

“Thanks, but I don't think that's gonna happen. Not in the monogamous sense, anyway.” Regardless, Axel was kind of touched.

“So what do you think will happen?” Sora crossed his arms, head tilting.

“Either we'll keep doing what we're doing – hanging out, screwing – and I'll be okay with it... Or I won't.”

“Doesn't sound like you want that...”

Admittedly, Axel was compromising more than he would've thought to if he wasn't so dang emotionally invested. But he'd at least developed enough self-awareness to figure out that being jealous was his own problem, and not Roxas's.

He'd just need to be a little bit more adult about it. Which _sucked_. Axel _hated_ adult things. Except sex. He liked that one adult thing and everything else was _dumb_.

“It's still gonna suck, feeling like he's cheating on me,” he grudgingly confessed. “And that's just kind of inevitable, with us.”

Until Axel got over that dose of damage.

Sora almost pouted, not wanting to even imagine being with someone in that way. He didn't think he could ever share _Riku_ with anyone else.

Well... Okay, maybe Kairi, if she weren't a lesbian and also wanted to date Riku. But that was because she was _Kairi_ and the three of them had kind of all shared each other when they were kids so that was practically the same thing.

But still. Feeling always cheated on? That sounded like the worst thing.

“Roxas is like that, yeah... He's got his whole reputation...”

“Right. The reputation.” Axel could recall their conversation about _that_ with disheartening clarity. Really, if he'd just bailed back then, maybe they'd both be better off.

... Or maybe they wouldn't be, because they'd both be sans one good friend. Axel hated the idea of not having Roxas involved in some aspect of his life, now.

“Sorry.” Sora looked deeply sympathetic.

“I'm practically over it.”

Trying to make light of things and cheer him up a little, Sora nudged Axel's arm. “They don't call him a Blonde Cookie for nothing, huh?”

“... They call him a what?”

Immediately, Sora looked horrified. “You didn't _know?_ ”

“What's a Blonde Cookie?” Axel demanded. “ _Roxas_ is a Blonde Cookie?”

“I thought someone would have told you by now!” Sora flailed his hands, wailing.

“ _No._ ” Axel was kind of entertained. “Explain. I need to hear this.”

Oh man, Sora was so not the right person for this job. Plus, it wasn't really his idea of a good time, thinking about all the _things_ people told him about Roxas. He went a deeper shade of pink.

“It just means... He's good if you, um, take a bite, and pass him along.” Sora groaned. “He's gonna kill me for telling you.”

“Blonde Cookie,” Axel echoed, snorting. He wasn't sure if that was an offensive nickname or an endearing one. Kind of tame, actually, for all the implications. Cute, even.

“Please, Axel,” Sora slumped, imploring. “He doesn't even know I know.”

“It's cool, I won't let him know,” Axel snickered, and gave Sora's shoulder a pat when he relaxed. “Any other nicknames I should know about?”

Defeated, Sora answered, “That's the only one I know. You should ask other guys Roxas has been with if you want to know, not me.”

“Maybe I will...” Maybe he'd ask Ansem, if he could track the guy down...

Sitting up again, Sora carefully inquired, “So you said you and Roxas are still... hooking up?”

“As of the other night... By accident.”

“... How do you have sex by accident?”

“Through hilarious means?”

“... Hilarious? How?” All Sora could envision was someone slipping on a banana peel, a la slapstick. “Wait, do I want to know?”

“God no.”

Okay, yeah, that was probably for the best. What a relief, that he wasn't going to be reliving any _more_ of his brother's sex life. “So... you've done that with Roxas a lot?”

“Oh, yeah,” Axel drawled, in a poor attempt at making it seem like he wasn't trying to brag about it. Whatever, Roxas was hot, surely even Sora could appreciate the pride he had in his score.

“So you probably know a lot about sex...” Sora slowly surmised.

He could see where this was going. Maybe it was some kind of trend, in Roxas's family. Maybe the _parents_ would soon ask for tips to spice things up in the bedroom.

“What d'you want to know?”

Sora hesitated. “Riku probably wouldn't like me talking about it...” he glanced over his shoulder, as though confirming that Riku wasn't actually looming there and looking indignant. “But he's gone for a couple hours, still.”

“He'll probably thank you, if you learn new and exciting sex stuff. Not like I'll be talking to him, anyway,” Axel egged him on, a little. At least sex talk passed the time.

With a grin that was a touch bashful, Sora acquiesced. “I want to be good at it. Riku's more experienced than I am, and I know he'll probably be patient and all that, but I want to surprise him so we go to do it and he'll be all like 'Whoa'.”

“That's both reasonable _and_ admirable,” Axel smirked. “So, how much have you done?”

“Mostly making out...” The attempted handjob didn't count.

“And how much do you _wanna_ do?”

Sora actually put a second of thought into his answer. “I'd say 'everything', but that would probably include a lot of weird stuff, huh?”

He snorted. “You have no idea.”

“I mean, at least going all the way.”

“So, who you want on top? Wait... He would be, wouldn't he?” Axel's almost-smirk was a little less kind. “That's a _thing_ for some former heteros.”

“I don't mind either way, but I think he'd know how to do it better on top,” Sora pondered. “I'd be kind of worried about hurting him...”

“Fair. So... You know how that works? Fingering, prep?”

“... Ki-ind of?”

So they were starting with the basics. “Okay, you'll want lube, and frankly you'll want to figure out what that feels like in advance.”

“Uh... how?” Sora looked a bit blank. Axel lifted one eyebrow suggestively.

“You've got your own fingers.”

To Sora's credit, he didn't act as though the suggestion scandalized him. “That sounds hard... And Riku's in my room most of the time!”

“Not when he's in rehab.”

“... I guess...” Sora was having a hard time even _imagining_...

“Trust me, if you can figure out what feels good to you, you can figure out how to respond,” Axel advised. “How to relax so it feels better for him, how to tighten up...”

His ears and forehead were getting in on the blushing action. “That does make sense...”

“Handjobs aren't complicated, assuming you've handled your own... And oral's all about how much you can swallow.”

“So, if you're pretty good at doing it to yourself you're okay? Handjobs, I mean, not-...”

“It's jacking off from a different angle. Lube helps, as a general rule.”

“Would...” Sora cleared his throat before he could squeak or sound like some other rodent-like creature. “You know, lotion work?”

“External stuff, yeah. Internal... It's not ideal, but yeah.”

“I guess I could go buy some. You don't have to be eighteen, right?”

“Nah. Any drugstore would have it.”

“Okay.” Sora wondered if he had time do that before Riku got home. It _would_ be a while...

“You might want to try deepthroating popsicles or something, too. Practice, y'know. Just watch the teeth and you'll be fine, though.”

Sora had apparently jumped off the wavelength and it hadn't come back around for him, yet. “Wait. Back up a second – what?”

“If you want to suck his dick...” Axel elaborated.

“ _Ohh_.” There was the wavelength, waving him back on-board without even charging additional fare.

“Last advice is to find out if he has kinks.”

And wavelength gone again, taking off at top speed. Sora gave him a blank look, thinking of bodily kinks. Did Axel mean, like... massages? Sora guessed those could be sexy.

“... Bondage? Pain play? _Pet_ play?”

“ _What?_ ”

“You know – sexual predilections,” Axel tried to explain, but he was pretty sure Roxas was the exception and not the rule. How had he learned _anything_ about sex when the rest of his family didn't even seem to _get it?_

Well, no shit, actually. They didn't get it because they weren't _getting it_.

Ha, nice, he'd need to save that one in reserve. Next time he needed to burn Demyx because he obviously didn't know something.

“I don't know if he'd have those things...” Sora was uncertain, and it was only a bit because he wasn't sure what 'predilections' meant.

“I dunno. He sounds pretty repressed.”

“I guess I could ask...?”

“Do it, kinks are fun,” he recommended.

Sora's eyes suddenly went wide. “Do _I_ have kinks? How would I know?”

“Exploration. Fantasizing. If you think about it and it gives you _tinglies_ , it's probably a kink.”

“Tinglies,” Sora nodded sagely. “Got it.”

“Oh – and, most important thing of all. Never forget hygiene.”

“Like... taking a shower and brushing your teeth before...?”

“Thorough shower,” Axel gave him a meaningful look. “Keep in mind _everywhere_ you want him to touch...”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Comprehension dawned.

Axel thought about expanding the hygiene discussion to include the proper care of sex toys, but he dismissed that pretty promptly. That could be in the second part of the lecture, once Sora had become acclimatized to the wonders of vanilla. Didn't want to blow his mind before he'd even blown his load.

Fuck, Axel was on _fire_ today. If only he had an excuse to say that one out loud.

“And that's your essential knowledge,” he concluded, instead. “Everything else takes practice.”

Truthfully, Sora was a bit disappointed. He'd kind of hoped to unlock a wellspring of hidden knowledge, but he supposed they didn't know each other _that_ well. “I think I can do all that.”

Hold up.

“Oh, wait, shit.” Axel sat up properly, regarding Sora very seriously. “Make _sure_ he knows about the prostate.”

“... You've lost me again.”

“... Oh my god. I forget what's common gay knowledge...”

Axel was almost stricken that he _forgot_. Of course _Riku_ wouldn't know, but _Sora_... He'd almost done so _wrong_ by him. Sora was a fucking _sweetheart_. He didn't _deserve_ that oversight.

“Did they talk about this in sex ed?” Sora blinked. “I don't remember, but I might not have been paying attention.”

“Not really. Okay, I might need to draw a diagram...”

“A diagram of _what?_ ”

 

* * *

 

Many sketches later, Sora had departed for the drug store with round eyes and a head full of _thoughts_. Axel had settled in front of the television, hearing the occasional laugh from upstairs as Ven socialized and the occasional blare of a commercial jingle. It would have been less annoying to stream a movie or something, but honestly, Axel wasn't willing to make a commitment to whatever he was watching, which could be considered ironic all things considered.

Then the front door finally opened, and the lack of immediate loud greeting meant Sora was still on his quest.

Roxas swore at the door quietly as he stepped inside, the lock stupid and stubborn. He assumed that the TV was being crowded around by Ven and his friends, and had _no_ interest in stopping long enough to get roped into a conversation or something.

He'd just had to pretend to be pleasant for hours on end. Never again.

Unbuttoning his work shirt on the way to the staircase, he was very unexpectedly halted by one of the last people he expected to just... _be_ in his house.

“Rox-...”

He stopped, almost vacant in his appraisal of Axel. “Uh... Hey...”

Hovering between the hall and the living room, Axel considered what he wanted to say that didn't sound too drama-heavy.

“... Thought we should talk. Your room?”

He could've done worse.

With a sigh, Roxas started to do up his buttons. “Probably safer down here.”

“... Right... good point...”

Setting his bag down by the stairs, Roxas diverted course to go crash on the couch. Axel followed with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I don't have anything new to say, so I guess you can talk,” Roxas prompted. The selfish part of him kind of wanted Axel to _not_ talk and just put his mouth somewhere on his body. Roxas wasn't picky and lips were versatile.

Axel took his hands back out of his pockets to take the remote, shutting off the TV and crashing down next to him. “... How many guys have you been with, in the last week or so?”

Roxas hesitated. “Does it matter?”

“I think so, yeah,” Axel nodded once. “How many?”

If he pulled more jealousy crap, Roxas would be forced to kick him out. He sighed. “I've been too busy to go out. So, none.”

Axel nodded again. “And have you been frustrated, or anything? Felt cooped up, or like I'm tying you down in unpleasant, non-kinky ways?”

Roxas gave him a _look_. He hoped this was going somewhere good, because already, this was grating. “It's not you that's keeping me from doing it.”

“I didn't say I was. Just, for whatever reason, you haven't been messing around with other guys... And we don't want to stop fucking, or hanging out, but neither of us want me to be jealous. Is that an accurate summary?”

“... Yeah, that's pretty much it.”

At least Axel wasn't being defensive or anything weird, so far.

“So... why don't we just keep doing that?” he suggested, unexpectedly tentative. “We hang out, we screw, and you don't feel like banging other guys right now so just let me know when that changes.”

Roxas surveyed him suspiciously. “And then what?”

Axel shrugged. “Then we'll figure out what to do when it comes to that point. No labels, you're not obligated to do anything, it'll just be basically what we've been doing already.”

“... But I still have to ask your _permission_.”

“No, you don't,” Axel quickly tried to make clear. “I just want to know. That's all.”

His eyes were still narrow, sifting through the proposal and looking for the weak point to take it apart. After a moment, Roxas sighed. “So 'basically' what we're doing now. What's different?”

“Just the part where you'd give me a heads-up if you wanted to... y'know.”

“And what happens if I don't?” Roxas gave him a piercing look. “What if you're not around when the opportunity comes up?”

“... Then at least tell me after,” he muttered. “Don't let me find out by the scratch marks on your back.”

Axel was aware that he was essentially asking for an open relationship, and Roxas honestly still disliked that he was _required_ to do _anything_ , as part of this agreement. If it'd been anyone else, he would have declined, claimed that who he slept with was his business and no one else's. Not even Axel's.

Damn him, though. He wanted to make _something_ work.

“Fine, I guess I can do that.”

“... If you don't want to-...” Axel was uncomfortable, but surprised he hadn't been yelled at. Yet.

“Can't exactly say no to what we're doing now,” Roxas sank back into the couch, eyes still holding a bit of that _glare_ quality. “But I don't like that part.”

Axel ran a hand through his hair, trying not to feel done in by that. “The part where you'll start hating me for it, or think I'm trying to control you.”

“So, what about the part where you start hating me for being a slut?” Roxas fired at him.

“I don't give a fuck how many guys, or who they are – why should I care?” It was too difficult not to sound a bit exasperated. “If you were my boyfriend and some guy came up and told me he'd had you in some kinky-as-hell position a month ago, I'd thank him for helping you practice for me. What's it matter?”

“This isn't about a month ago or whatever. It's about what's going to happen now.”

“What, you think you'll be calling me up three times a day to throw an FYI at me?” Axel felt something in his stomach clench. “Even if you did, at least I'd know what was going on... Where we stand...”

“I don't know when I will, or how often. What's the point of knowing, anyway?” Honestly, Roxas didn't get why Axel would _want_ to know if he was going to be upset. “I don't call up all my friends just to let them know who I'm fucking that day.”

Axel deflated a bit with an exhale.

That was... probably the distinction. That Axel was still, in the end, no different that any of Roxas's other friends, once sex was taken out of the equation.

An open relationship, titled or no, just didn't work if they didn't _both_ want it.

“... Forget about it...” Axel didn't think there was anything else he could say that wouldn't just make him angry.

“I don't get it,” Roxas sighed. “I know you're going to be jealous, so why not just tell me I can't or choose not to know?”

“Because I'm not going to tell you what you can or can't do, so at least this way I'll _know_ and won't have to constantly wonder what's going on with us!”

“But you'll still be jealous! So you'll still be bottling that up and pretending it's okay, or we're going to fight about it.”

The more frustrated they got, the louder they became.

“I'll be jealous, yeah, but it won't be like you're cheating on me because I'll _know_. No delusions about you ever feeling something, I won't have to read into things -”

“Feeling something?” Roxas cut him off, a bit stung. “For the guy I'm with? For you?”

“For me, obviously.”

Roxas stood, glaring. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“How are _you_ offended by that?!”

That only affronted him more. “Because I don't want to call you my boyfriend, I've _obviously_ never felt anything for you. One of my best friends. Wouldn't expect some slut to...”

“I just mean that you don't feel like I do, that's _all_ -” Axel wasn't sure if he should be sorry, angry, defensive, or all three. “God damn, if you're actually sensitive about the number of guys you sleep with, why do you do it?”

“Because I want to. And they want me.” Defiantly, he shrugged.

“Then why do you give a damn what anyone thinks about it?”

“I care when people that matter assume I'm some cold, unfeeling asshole,” Roxas bit out. “Should I apologize for that?”

“I don't think you're cold, I think you don't love me!”

Roxas felt the equivalent of running full-tilt towards something only to be jerked back by a leash. “... Uh, do _you_ love me?”

Axel's expression went slack.

That hesitation was not good. That was _not good_. Roxas's heart started frenetically skipping around his chest, close to panic.

“Axel, do you?”

Yeah, he really didn't know how to answer that. “... No?”

Roxas stared, not sure he believed that super-convincing performance.

“... I should go.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Axel stood up, starting to slink off towards the hallway. Manners somewhat ingrained, Roxas accompanied him to the door, watching him put on his boots in uncomfortable silence.

He righted himself, and pulled Roxas up against him to kiss him, only for a second. Too fleeting to even enjoy, on either end.

“... Thought I'd at least get one more in,” Axel muttered, letting go and grabbing his coat.

That tone was totally beyond interpretation and Roxas was way too uneasy for that shit. “Before what?”

“Before you start avoiding me.” Axel stepped back, hand going to the door handle.

“I'm not going to-... Whatever.” He wasn't going to start another argument. That was also beyond the scope of what Roxas could handle, at the moment. “I'll text you or something.”

Axel opened the door. “Sure you will.”

Suddenly tempted to throw something at him, Roxas's own indignation interfered with his ability to respond. He just watched him walk out the door and cursed Axel a thousand times in his head for getting in the last word.

Swearing under his breath, Axel pulled on his coat and hunched his shoulders up by his ears.

“I'm an idiot.”

Roxas could see him from the window, walking briskly away in the direction of the bus stop. It took him some time before he wasn't pissed off to the point of immobilization, and Roxas then staggered to the living room to fall back on the couch.

His heart was still racing.

Roxas tried to breathe, tried to think anything that wasn't just, _'No, no, no, no, fuck no.'_

Axel loving him was terrifying. If Axel seriously fucking _loved_ him...

For them, love was the worst thing that could happen. Love wouldn't work – it would start more fights, and every one more painful.

Fuck, he didn't _want_ to hurt Axel.

Roxas's fingers pressed hard against his eyes, stinging with helpless frustration. God, he wanted to run. It would prove Axel right, but did it really matter? The destruction would be less, in the end, if they never saw each other again.

Something twinged painfully in his chest, something that wouldn't let him just give Axel up. The urge to chuck something as hard as he could was back but all the ammunition he had was pillows, and that was hardly satisfying.

He wasn't supposed to get close like this, not enough to _care_. He needed to be able to run the moment things got intense, or it would all fall apart.

... Axel was going to _fucking ruin_ him.

All his panic amounted to nothing closer to an idea of what to do. Roxas picked up one of the throw pillows and buried his face in it, tipping sideways onto the couch and staying curled up there until he could find the will to drag himself up to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooo boy, we are so excited and relieved to have this chapter out in particular, so everyone can be in on the Blonde Cookie now. We use the term a lot when we talk to each other about this fic, but we would've sounded pretty crazy if we used it in front of anyone else before now...


	19. The Wonders of the Prostate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry about the delay on this one. As we announced on our tumblr, updates had to be a day late this week because of illness and family obligations and all that.
> 
> Luckily, none of you had to wait nearly as long for this as Sora did. HEY-O.

Riku's life was falling into a very comfortable pattern – rehab during the day, helping the Hikari parents with dishes or arbitrary chores, hanging out with Sora in the evenings. Spending time together ranged from nice, friendly activities of the most platonic kind, and heavy petting while their tongues tried to tie themselves together in a neat little bow.

Then Riku discovered the free condoms given to day patients by request, and pretty much everything changed.

Unbeknownst to him, Sora been studying some very crude drawings and investigating the wonders of the prostate just the day before, which accounted for the weird sexual tension they'd both experienced all night. It'd been on Riku's mind as he went to rehab for the day, and brought to light this incredible revelation of free sexy stuff.

He'd made a few casual inquiries when signing in that morning, about the rehab's stance on patient relationships. While the clinic itself was a nookie-free zone, it seemed a perfectly legitimate question for a former needle-user to ask. Fauna, bless her non-judgmental soul, had nodded both knowingly and kindly, and let Riku pocket a foil package from the little basket behind the desk.

In the interest of full disclosure, Riku would've had to admit that regardless of whether or not he'd picked up prophylactics, he'd kind of planned on _something_ happening later. This was going to be a Sexy Boyfriend day, not a Platonic Friends Forever day.

He'd forgone... certain articles of clothing. It was a snap decision. Kind of a mistake, kind of _really not_.

Riku had been hyper-aware of his body all day in a way he wasn't used to. It wasn't like being uncomfortable in his own skin, or self-monitoring. Just the fact that he wasn't _as dressed_ as everyone around him probably thought (not that anyone should've been thinking about that and Riku really hoped they weren't) was kind of... Man, it was weird, how much he could think about his dick in one day. And that had his libido's attention, kind of like the benched player in a game just _waiting_ to be sent out onto the field.

He was nervous. There was an anticipatory buzz through his entire body, doubt as to whether or not Sora would want to do anything sexual, (although his money was on 'yes'), even more uncertainty over what they would _do_ and how he'd react.

He really didn't want to pressure him. He didn't want to move things along too fast. Riku wasn't even sure he deserved this. Sex wasn't just _physical_ between them, it was... The whole point was to be together. Completely. In every conceivable way.

Everything he and Sora did already felt too much like forgiveness, and Riku wasn't over it yet. He wasn't ready to be.

Plus, like... What if he wasn't _good_ at gay sex? This would be Sora's first time, so there was kind of a lot of pressure.

He faltered up the walkway to the house, honestly considering turning around and walking back to the clinic. Or maybe to Kairi's. She might take mercy on him and let him live in her closet, or something. It was a walk-in. That was probably plenty of room, once you got used to it...

Ugh. No. Get it together.

“I'm being stupid-... It's Sora...” he muttered to himself, letting out a large puff of air. He ran a nervous hand through his hair and took the last few paces up to the door, knocking once.

Shit, did he look okay?

Sora all but leapt down the stairs in an impressive display of amateur parkour, yelling in rapid-fire, “Don't get it, Mom, I got it!”

The entire household knew it was Riku. For whatever reason, he still insisted on knocking like a guest. Still, Sora was jumpy – significantly less nervous than Riku, but what, like that was hard.

He wrenched open the door, alight with eagerness to see him, and tried to cram all his warm feelings into as poetic a greeting as he was capable of.

“Hey!”

Riku, just as eloquent, opened his mouth to say something back to only really managed a, “Hey...”

He was kind of caught up in wondering if it was okay to kiss Sora, in greeting. Riku decided a hug was safe middle ground, and wrapped him up in one. It wasn't overly tender or particularly long, but Sora wound up a little red-faced anyway.

“We... We can go up to my room.” There was literally no reason to announce that. Where else would they even go?

Riku nodded, coming in to remove his coat and shoes. At least he wasn't coming off as jittery as he felt, although being invited up to Sora's room – because that's what saying it _out loud_ was, an invitation – probably meant... something. Or had it meant nothing?

“Sure.”

They didn't actually head straight upstairs. There was a quick pit-stop in the kitchen to talk to Sora's mother; Riku had a polite exchange with her about their respective days while Sora teetered on tenterhooks, waiting for a good time to slip an inquiry into the conversation about dinner.

She hadn't started on it yet. Mr. Hikari was going to be late coming home (socializing with work friends, all part of climbing the corporate ladder) so they were welcome to snacks in the meantime. They graciously declined while making some sensible leaps of logic.

That meant a late dinner. That meant they had plenty of time to screw around.

Not... _screw_ around, but, maybe. If that was what they were going to do.

Detour done with, they trudged up the stairs with all the grace expected of two boys in their late teens, and Sora shut the bedroom door behind him.

Crazy, how warm it was. Sora went a bit pink again, exhaling explosively. Riku cursed himself for thinking he was cute when flustered, then remembered that he actually didn't have to hate himself for thinking that. He'd literally woken up that morning thinking about getting personal with Sora's penis. It was totally okay to be attracted to him.

“So, uh-...” Riku raised an eyebrow, still determined to play it cooler than he felt. “What did you feel like doing?”

Sora cleared his throat. “Well, uh... I dunno. We can... watch a movie... or something?”

Like that wasn't completely obvious.

“Sure,” he agreed promptly, and went to sit on Sora's bed. There wasn't actually anywhere else where they might both have a good view of his desktop, so that was convenient. He also managed to look pretty relaxed, though Sora did an abysmal job of hiding his blatant surprise.

“Wha-... You really want to?”

“Why wouldn't I want to watch a movie?” Riku asked slowly. Had that been a euphemism or not, then?

“I-I dunno! I was just saying it because... because it's... a thing. That we could do. If we want.”

Absently, Riku moistened his lips and leaned back to get comfortable. “Alright, then. Unless you want to do something else.”

“Movie's good,” Sora confirmed, a little quieter, and went to set one up on the computer.

“Yeah...”

Thoughtlessly, Sora chose one of the most nauseatingly romantic movies in his 'Downloads' folder while Riku's gaze strayed and wandered all over him. The movie was actually one they'd seen before (and one of Riku's favorites, which he would not admit to anyone, even under torture) but Riku hadn't planned on paying attention no matter what. He didn't so much have the capacity, right then, especially with Sora joining him on the bed.

Sora only just resisted the natural instinct to sprawl. Back when they were Just Friends, he was used to throwing himself all over Riku when they were watching something, or if he was tired. Why was it so much weirder to do it now?!

Automatically, Riku pulled him a little closer. That just felt better for everyone. Nerves soothed, Sora craned around to pull his curtains shut and make for a more movie-friendly atmosphere, then leaned into Riku's side.

Silently, Riku prayed he wasn't blushing. Those prayers went totally ignored because that was the last thing on any deity's list of priorities.

Sora – who was actually more aware of the romantic streak than Riku knew – was justifying his own distraction from the plot and frequently glancing over at Riku's face. He was _pretty sure_ he was imagining him blushing because it was relatively dark. If he actually was, though...

Their eyes accidentally met. Sora quickly turned away, and Riku overcompensated for the tiny spike in his heart rate by letting his hold slide. His hand was totally on Sora's hip. Surely, such a touch bordered on suggestive.

Nah. Sora wondered that, himself, but decided he was being oversensitive because he _wanted_ things to happen.

If either one of them had stopped to think even a little, the fact that they'd been in more intimate positions would've dawned on someone. Riku's hands had been all over Sora before, whether they were grappling or groping. Being forward should have been easy.

No appropriately overt gestures came to mind, and Riku tried three times just to make words happen.

He impulsively kissed Sora's cheek when he just couldn't manage anything else. Sora turned his head, about to say something – he didn't even know what, he kind of just planned on winging it – and wound up connecting their lips instead.

Thank _god_.

Riku pressed into it and almost coaxed Sora back. Neither deepened it right away, but it was still warm enough to melt the ice rather than break it.

When they got to the cusp of their usual tongues-in-mouths, Riku pulled away abruptly.

“Riku?” Sora's eyes were wide, and he was a little breathless despite the arguable chastity of what they were doing.

“... Are we rushing it?”

“Rushing... what?”

Riku tried to relax, seem a little less invested in the evening's outcome. “Us... I mean,” he looked away, sitting back. “I'm not sure if this is going where I think it is, but... I don't even know if it's right for me to want that, now...”

He was doing the honesty thing again! Sora was briefly overcome by the urge to cling and help him pop the insecurity bubble. But instead he just sat up to be on Riku's level. They could talk about this.

“I, um... well, we're-...” He trailed off, then tried again, “Couples do... you know.”

Or, maybe Riku could talk and Sora could just listen. He was totally a good listener.

“Well, yeah,” he apparently interpreted Sora-speak with the ease of someone who'd been doing it since childhood, “but I don't know how this is supposed to work. I've never technically had a relationship.”

Sora blinked, asking despite himself. “But you've had girlfriends and stuff, haven't you?”

“No one that meant anything.” Damn it, he'd been trying to skirt around this, but... “And there's the fact that you're not a... girlfriend.”

Hopefully he extrapolated the undertone of, _'I don't have any idea what I'm doing.'_

Even though Sora's mind unwillingly flickered to Roxas, he also figured that made sense. Whatever Riku and Roxas had done was _definitely_ not what he wanted them to do. He reddened.

“Well, no. But then... Maybe you should think of... what you would do if you were the girlfriend.” Sora paused. “Wait, that doesn't make sense, does it?”

Riku started to snicker. He'd blame nerves, if anyone asked.

“What I mean is... is...” Sora stalled, growing flustered. “It's not really that different, is it?!”

There was the _prostate_ , which was _super cool_ , but...

The snickers began to die down. “... The only difference is that I care if I mess this up.”

If anything could have soothed the burn of ex-girlfriends and Roxas, that did the trick.

“But, you know, that doesn't mean we can't be like... how boyfriends should be. _I_ think we're ready.”

He'd been ready since swimming classes in tenth grade P.E., but he didn't think now was the time to admit it.

“So... it would be okay,” Riku tried, very carefully, to choose his words. Didn't want to make it sound like he was pushing for... Even though Sora had _just said_ , he was still... “You wouldn't freak out, or anything, if I...”

This time, Sora was _way_ ahead of him. “Nope.”

“Good...”

They kissed again without holding so much back. Sora's hands were on his back right up until the point Riku smirked against his lips and subtly directed them up to his hair, which Sora was a tiny bit ecstatic over. Still his favorite place to thread his fingers, the strands were just so glossy and nice...

Riku found the hem of his shirt and Sora broke the kiss to anxiously murmur, “The movie -”

“We've seen it... Want me to stop?”

He looked actually appalled by the suggestion. “What you're doing? No...”

Riku grinned, about to kiss him again but giving the shirt an opportunity to get lost. “You mind...?”

It seemed silly to linger over that nanosecond of shyness; they'd seen each other shirtless and _more_ pretty consistently over the past week. It was just because they were both pretty sure on this being _the time_.

Still, Sora gave an affirmative of 'hell yeah, goodbye shirt' and threw it in the vague direction of the laundry basket. As always, Riku's followed because it was only fair.

 _Looking_ never got old. Sora gave him a very thorough stare.

Riku's lips went from his lips to his jaw, over his chest – since that _first time,_ Riku's mouth had remained pretty steadfastly above the collarbone. Neck and lips only, nothing else that might garner a premature reaction. It was a lot easier not to worry when he was so busy kissing and touching, though, too overheated to think.

“Ri-iku...” That was a sensation he'd _missed_. He wanted more of that, but some more intensity would be okay.

Glancing up to get a look at that expression, a hot surge ran through Riku and coaxed him farther down the bed. He was getting lower, and starting to involve his tongue a little more. Sora's breath hitched.

“... You'd tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable... Or if I should slow down... Right?”

“Yeah...”

As if _either_ of them would want to slow down. They were already going slow. Way too slow, for horny people who'd been comfortable with each other for years.

Riku could really only manage to avoid touching for so long. His palm drifted over the distinct bulge in Sora's pyjama pants.

“That's...”

“Too much?” Riku almost froze (okay, yeah, he didn't want things to end at this stage again, not that he was judging) but didn't pause _entirely_ , dropping light kisses along the waistband. Sora almost squirmed, cock harder and face flushed.

“Not exactly, but shouldn't you-... Shouldn't I, I mean...”

Sora's hand drifted to his shoulder... and briefly through his hair because it was right there and how could he resist.

“We'll get to everything,” Riku assured him, and started to tug at the drawstring with another glance. Just to confirm this was still okay.

If Riku said they'd get to everything... Well, Sora was less _worked up_ ahead of time, and definitely had better control of his... responses, than the first time. They could be patient, and then it'd be like Riku said. They'd get to it all.

Oh god, assuming Riku didn't see his dick for the first time and get totally turned off.

Sora had kind of... put off, thinking about whether or not his genitals would wind up being unappealing to his not-totally-gay boyfriend. With all the _stuff_ they'd done, it wasn't like Riku had ever seen it. Or touched it, directly.

He stopped him with one hand.

“Y-you don't have to, you know.”

Riku paused, catching the hand and kissing it gently. “... I'll only stop if you want me to.”

Sora's blush was working overtime. “I don't...”

“Then, I won't stop.”

Clothing was being slid out of the way. Sora didn't dare look.

Admittedly, Riku was burying his own uncertainty. He really only had theoretical knowledge of what to do, here, but like hell he'd slow down because of _that_. Riku had unconsciously challenged himself to handle this situation and his boyfriend's erection, and Riku never backed down from a challenge. He had something to _prove_ , now.

And already, it was less... awkward, than he guessed. Sora's erection wasn't particularly shocking. He'd had it pressed against him on several occasions, and he'd seen his _own_ before. Running a hand along the length wasn't overly strange, either.

Plus Sora groaned, almost too loudly in response to such a simple touch, and that was fucking cool. The sound almost jolted Riku, at first – Sora too, actually, he hadn't really prepared for the feeling – but... that was really _rewarding_.

The expletive he breathed was inaudible, and Riku started to stroke him cautiously, experimental. Not slow, not _too_ gentle, but... It was different. It was strange that it was so different, and not remotely in a bad way. At this point, Sora could've had anything below the belt and Riku would've been happy with it. He was too turned on to care.

In an attempt to gather his wits even a little, Sora shut his eyes, cheeks and arousal burning. “Riku... this is embarrassing.”

“It's just me... We've seen each other naked before...” Or, _Sora_ had, and Riku had seen him naked when they were both kids. Besides, he'd started to consider... His kisses dappled lower and lower, and he was nearly close enough to...

Equally aware of what Riku _could_ do in his position, words were a lot harder to come by. He was totally amazed that Riku might be considering doing _that_. Amazed, and really, _really_ turned on.

Be strong. He had to say something. He did _not_ want this to end like last time.

“But it's like... just you, doing stuff.”

“Well, do you know what to do?” Riku teased.

He almost sputtered. “Sure I do!”

“Okay...” very cautiously, Riku's lips brushed over the head of his erection. “Prove it.”

“H-hey...” That was so not fair. Everything _tingled_. A _lot_.

“C'mon... prove it to me...”

At least by making it a point of pride, it was a little easier to retaliate. Sora pushed him back a bit, because that was cheating and he couldn't _think_ , and he sat up to go for Riku's jeans. His fingers briefly fumbled over the zipper, but he started to pull them down out of his way to get to his boxers.

Except Riku was distinctly lacking those.

Sora's mind went blank. “Uh, Riku?”

He cleared his throat a little. Maybe if he hadn't been kind of buzzing over being commando all day, Riku would have had a little more shame, but Sora's nudity was bolstering his confidence. Or his sex drive. Maybe both.

“What? Makes it easier for you...”

Gears started to click back into working order and Sora started making the connections. That he had to have left the house without them on, because no way would Riku ditch them somewhere. So, he had to have been thinking about this, and _planning_ for this, all day and whoa actually the thought process grinded to a halt again because he could _look_ at him again.

Look at his erection, which sure was indeed hard, and figure out what to do with it. It was just like Axel said, nothing actually that complicated about this...

The pause of deliberation was taking too long, though, and the stirrings of anxiety struck again. Riku abruptly tilted Sora's chin to kiss him, and he was actually pretty relieved that he could just kiss back for the moment. Get his bearings before he acted, figure out what he should be doing.

One hand started drifting towards Riku's cock, and was gently assisted the rest of the way there. Riku almost bucked into his hand, and impulsively, Sora wrapped his hand around the shaft just a little too tight.

With a hiss, Riku parted long enough to speak. “Gentler... Careful.”

That was all he said before kissing Sora again, as though to reassure him that they weren't _stopping_. Sora retracted just a little, consciously careful this time and earning Riku's hand on his erection in turn.

He really hoped he was doing this the right way. Riku stroked slow, trying to prompt him into mirroring the pressure if not develop his own pace, but all of Sora's attention was on being _touched_. He was hardly able to act, firmly in the space of 'react', and the muffled pleasured sounds were almost constant.

Oddly, Riku didn't mind the lack of reciprocation. He sucked Sora's lower lip gently before he drew back, sounding only a _bit_ smug. “I'm still too distracting, huh?”

“... Wha-?” Yeah, Sora was way too enthralled with what he just did. Everything after that was a mush of sound.

Kissing over his jaw and down his neck, Riku stroked him faster, confidence bolstered. “... You were proving something.”

“R-right...” Sora couldn't be faulted for his lacking focus. He was a little busy melting. “I didn't know you could do stuff like that...”

“Benefit to us dating... I'll do 'stuff like that' whenever you want,” Riku offered, lowering Sora back against the mattress.

“Maybe you should have said something sooner,” Sora sank back, reddening, and then almost sat up and contorted so he could kick himself. Was that in bad taste? Or a mood-breaker, or something? He hadn't meant it in a _mean_ way, like... telling him off, or something...

Thankfully, it didn't seem to occur to Riku to take it that way.

“Ngh, wish I had...” Briefly, he caught Sora's lips, then sat up over him and hesitated. “... How far do you want to go?”

Sora stalled for time by clearing his throat. So he'd taken Axel's advice, and tried out... _farther_... by himself, before Riku could get home. He'd showered _really_ thoroughly (which felt weird), experimented with the amount of lube he needed before pressing a finger into himself was easy (also felt weird), and then... Well, he'd only tried out the one finger, but there'd been a lot of squirming, a lot of wondering if he was doing this wrong. Because, well, it didn't feel bad. Better, when he thought about Riku's hair, and his biceps, and his mouth and then he kind of wound up fixating on the hair again...

But then he'd double-checked Axel's pencil sketches and he _really_ wanted to know what it'd be like to have Riku against that spot. That hot little _place_ inside him that had made his knees give out and his erection twitch.

Saying that might be off-putting or weird, though.

“I, um... What do you want?”

“Anything,” Riku answered honestly. “As much as you're okay with doing.”

He almost said 'as much as you're willing to give me'. That was too needy, too telling. Riku had to at least _seem_ stronger than that.

“Are you sure?” Sora nibbled his lower lip. “I mean, I'm still me-... I mean, not a girl... and all that.”

“It's fine, if it's you.” It was _best_ , if it was Sora.

“It'd be... good. If I could do more for you.”

Slowly, Riku leaned in and kissed him once more, eyes slipping closed. It was reassuring, no less wanting, but it also filled the awkward span of time it took for Riku to reach into his back pocket.

He withdrew the condom he brought, showing it to him and flushing despite himself. “Was kind of hoping for that.”

If it was any consolation to Riku, Sora's cheeks had gone such a vivid shade of pink that it was a little shocking the blood rush didn't knock him out. Thankfully, he remained both conscious and horny.

“Sora...?” The lack of an enthusiastic 'yes' was kind of concerning. So was the full-face tomato impression. “We don't have to -”

Sora pushed forward and shut Riku up the only way he could think of. He was a little panicked at the thought of being told no _now;_ there was _prostate stimulation_ to be explored and he didn't want Riku thinking he wasn't _totally up for it._ Because he was, there was just a distinct issue with his vocal chords. Sora didn't want to squeak at him. He'd sound like Mickey Mouse. That'd be way not-sexy. Sexy was so much needed.

That much vigor was at least effective in reassuring Riku that he was okay with progressing. He didn't break the kiss until they needed to breathe, and he moved over Sora's hips to get comfortable.

Fuck. One oversight.

“Damn, think we need something to... Do you have... lube, or...”

Sora was already in a _state_ , and being asked embarrassing questions didn't rectify that. He was panting, he was burning – if his skin was as hot to the touch as he felt inside, Riku was going to need some aloe after this was over – and now his head was spinning as he decided whether or not to confess to having gone to the drug store with that exact purchase in mind.

It wasn't even an _unopened bottle_. What if Riku _said_ something about it?

Sora covered his face with his hands. It'd be stupid to be all like, 'No Riku, maybe you should dart over to the bathroom and see if someone's left some hand lotion or face cream on the counter.' He bought lube _for_ this.

“... Under the pillow.”

A smirk spread over Riku's face. “Really...?” One hand slid under, finding the bottle without much trouble. “... How about that...”

Water-based. That was fortunate.

“I can't help thinking about things, okay?!”

Far from teasing him, Riku was blushing as he opened the bottle and muttered, “Well, if I wasn't hard before...”

Sora had been thinking about sex. With _him_ , specifically. Yeah, that did it for him.

Coating his fingers liberally, Riku settled back down over him and kissed him harder than he had been. Sora's heart was beating fast and he was certain they could both feel it. Hands went to his shoulders, keeping the kiss going in a weak attempt to delay him. He wanted to feel good, and he _knew_ how awesome it could be (it was bound to be even better with Riku's fingers, instead) but his nervousness was impervious to even the mightiest boner.

His brain was just _so convinced_ that any minute now, Riku would realize he was doing 'gay things' and not want him anymore.

The stall didn't wind up panning out as planned, anyway. Riku searched by feel – even though he'd never been in this position with a guy before, he knew how this was supposed to work. One slick finger stroked against his entrance, the shiver going up Sora's body equal parts anticipation and worry. The finger didn't breach him, yet, giving Sora plenty of time to tense up or protest if that was going to happen.

That pause was put to good use, as Sora started convincing himself that Riku wouldn't have gotten this far if he was going to freak out.

It helped that nothing felt wildly unfamiliar or bizarre. Cautious and slow, Riku started to press the digit inside, and _wow, was that ever different_.

There was really no comparison between fingering himself and letting someone else do it. For one thing, the someone else was _Riku_ and that was _wow_. It was still odd, but definitely less awkward.

And apparently it was a lot easier for someone else to reach that super-wicked-nice-angle even by _accident_ because Riku had just grazed his sweet spot. Sora broke the kiss with a sharp breath and a little noise.

Riku had no idea what he just did, but he sure was intrigued. “... You liked that...”

Okay, how could he do that again...

Sora made a quiet sound of frustration, trying to angle his hips to help. “No, back where you were...”

There was a solid twenty seconds of adjusting and re-adjusting before Riku brushed his prostate again. Once more, by accident, but Sora writhed and breathed out, “There, okay?”

So yeah, Riku was going to remember that angle _forever_. He was willing to do anything for those needy sounds. Sora was fast and free with them, moving his hips eagerly and trying to brush up against Riku because this was a partner project and everyone should reap the benefits.

“Nngh...”

It was a damn good thing Riku had experience with holding himself back. He wasn't entirely sure how to stretch Sora out without hurting him, but it required a certain amount of focus. Aiming to distract Sora from any discomfort (without just giving in and grinding), he kissed him again – lightly, at first, but then he took charge when Sora seemed to forget how kissing worked.

In his defense, stars kept bursting behind his eyes with every touch to that _wonderful_ spot, so Sora couldn't be expected to multitask. On the plus side, pleasure and lube meant he wasn't feeling any pain. He could barely even grasp the thought of it.

Slowly, Riku started to slide another finger in along the first. It was kind of impressive, how relaxed he was, how totally Sora was just... trusting him, like this. He only broke the kiss to remind him, “Tell me if I hurt you...”

Lips still parted, Sora had a kind of _glazed_ look, needing a moment to understand him past the ringing in his ears.

“Uh-huh...”

His voice was so... soft. It wasn't like Sora to be subdued, but that wasn't even the word Riku would've put to his tone. It was... gentle. As gentle as Riku wanted to be with him, and he went slow and slight as he scissored his fingers. As easy as Sora was making it, it'd probably be more so if his knees weren't so close together...

Gingerly, one hand roved down to part Sora's legs. His anxious blush promptly flared up again.

“Hey -”

With an inquisitive sound, Riku nipped his lower lip. It was not reassuring enough.

“Just don't...” Sora swallowed, going quieter, “... look.”

Because if he didn't _look_ he might forget where his fingers were currently making themselves at home. That totally made sense.

Riku's concern flickered only for a second before he smirked, instead, lowering his voice. “Can't exactly stop me. You're... hot, you know...”

That definitely hadn't been the expected response. “Riku!” Sora half-whined, and sounded a lot more like himself for it.

“Come on, if you can look at my _hair_ like that, I can look at you...” he teased, and sought that angle again. He wanted to try out two fingers against one prostate and see who won.

“That's diff – _ah_...”

His eyes went slightly narrow and he tugged Riku down into another kiss. This meant war and he'd keep Riku's eyes off his _private place_ out of stubbornness, now. Riku's argument that it wasn't all that different was stuck at the gates as their mouths took off instead.

He started with the third finger. It seemed like a good time.

Shivering, Sora seized more initiative with the kiss and almost forced Riku to sit up with his vehemence. Riku hardly minded, letting Sora play inside his mouth and basking in the boldness.

“Mm...” Enjoying the control, Sora unconsciously opened his legs more and moved his hips down against his fingers in a restless sort of way. All the attempts to slow down and take things easier were kind of defeated by the urgency, and Riku worked his fingers into him with a steady increase in stretching. He circled them, loosening him up, hitting his sweet spot more times than not.

It was a good thing they still had a movie on. Sora wasn't thinking in the slightest about how vocal he was getting and Riku had forgotten why his volume could ever be a bad thing.

The movie itself had slipped both their minds, too. In the process, also the genre. Sora hadn't accounted for Riku's romantic streak when he drew back, breathlessly murmured, “Do you think you're ready...?”

And their eyes met and there was so much _there_. Riku was looking for any sign that he was afraid, looking at Sora like he was the most amazing being he'd encountered in all his short life. He looked nervous, because the possibility of messing this up or pushing too hard was still in his head somewhere, but... it was only a flicker. A tiny spark in a melted pool.

Sora meant to say something, but when he was being stared at like he was all Riku ever wanted, words weren't easily grasped.

He just nodded. Riku was everything _he'd_ ever wanted. In every way, including the sexy ones.

When they kissed again it wasn't a competition. It was gentle, affectionate. Riku withdrew his fingers slowly, carefully, and reached for the lubrication again. Wordlessly pouting, Sora shifted up onto his knees and grabbed for the bottle instead.

“Sora-?”

“Can I...?” He popped open the cap. He'd forgotten; stroking Riku's dick _properly_ was on his list of things he really, really wanted to do following his resounding failure, and earlier hadn't counted as enough.

“... Yeah...”

Sora practically crawled over his lap, squeezing a little of the gel into his palm. Tentatively, he rubbed it over the head of his erection, and it was a little too cold to be pleasant right off the bat. Riku was tense for a second, but it warmed quickly. He exhaled, arching into the smooth glide of Sora's hand.

Then the hand retreated suddenly.

“Oh wait, condom!” Sora turned to search through the covers. They'd gotten... _really_ mussed. How had they even kicked them up so much? “Condom, condom...”

Riku groaned very quietly in frustration. Couldn't believe they'd forgotten the condom, first...

Sora was starting to feel bad, the longer he couldn't find it. He finally overturned part of the covers to reveal the small foil package.

“A-ha!” He sat up, holding it triumphantly aloft, and then was tugged right over. Riku kissed him deeply, trapping his tiny startled noise. He almost dropped the condom and gave in to a lengthy, revamped make-out session, but Riku broke away before he could also fall prey to his self-made trap. His erection was pretty insistently reminding him that they planned on resuming.

Lips pink and tingling, Sora licked them absently as he sat up again and started to inexpertly struggle with the wrapper.

Riku waited for a moment, trying to spare him some dignity. “... I'll open it, if you can't...”

A bit of jealous indignation bubbled up. Sora didn't _want_ him to do it, partly because he didn't want to think about how many times Riku must've gone through his process before with 'some girl', but also because he could open his own freakin' condom thank you very much.

“I can do it,” he insisted, and actually managed to rip the wrapper as he said so.

“Good...” Riku looked relieved. “I don't think I've ever wanted anything so badly in my life...”

Sora paused, starting to smile. “... Riku?”

He reddened. “Pretend I didn't say that...”

Whoa, he'd actually heard that right. Sora tried not to laugh, and didn't do very well. His ego was successfully stroked – Riku _wanted him_ , and he was so flustered that he wasn't even thinking before making needy confessions.

“Okay,” he indulged him rather than make it seem like he was making fun of Riku, and rolled the condom onto him. Lust certainly helped him focus, and he only fumbled a tiny bit. Riku didn't mind, blush in full-force and not helped by the slew of affectionate thoughts going through his head.

He passed Sora the lubrication bottle again, when he started to glance around for it.

“... You're too hot, right now...”

Coating his palm, he stroked Riku quickly, too impatient to explore anymore. “Should I pretend you didn't say that, too?”

“No, there's no denying that one,” Riku groaned softly, grinning a little bit. The only reason Sora didn't say anything in reply was in the hope he'd hear more moans.

He stroked him slick, then pulled away.

“Wait, Sora-...” Before it happened... Riku... he just had to _check_. “You're sure...?”

“Well, are _you_ sure?” Sora countered, nagging fear nothing if not determined.

“Yeah,” Riku swallowed. In truth, he was having a difficult time not pushing Sora back and taking him, already. “... But if you have any doubts, we can wait...”

Frankly, that was so ridiculous Sora actually snorted. “I'm not worried about anything. I've only wanted to be with you for like, ever.”

The last thread of his composure was snapped. Riku pressed close, kissed him fervently, and coaxed Sora's legs farther apart.

Sora's breath caught as Riku started to ease into him.

“Mn-... _m-ngh_...”

He kissed back, didn't want to stop, was distantly curious to see the expression on Riku's face but this was everything he wanted. Riku went slow, giving him as much time as possible to adjust or stop him if need be, but the heat enveloping his cock was incredible and Sora was trying to take him in deeper. He was helpless against the need to move, flooded by sensations, and Riku gripped his hips to keep Sora almost-still.

There was _some_ leverage. Sora could tilt his hips a little, still. His feet came up right off the bed, sinking into the mattress and looking for something to hold onto.

“Mn'ku...”

Riku tried to get himself almost flush against Sora and didn't stop pressing forward until he was as deep inside as he could be. Their closeness was, in the most unfitting manner, not conducive to sheathing himself entirely... Not until he brought Sora's hips up a little higher and then he moved, as gentle as he could manage. Sora's brow knit in focus, breathing in broken spurts.

“If's it... too much, tell me...” Riku's words were broken up by frequent kisses. “I'll slow... Or I'll stop-... You feel... amazing...”

“It's okay,” Sora trembled, a little, mumbling against his lips. “Just... careful.”

He almost didn't think it was necessary to _say_. He knew Riku would be. Good thing, too, because he was too awed by _having sex with Riku_ to ever want to tell him to _stop_.

Sora was thinking about that, until Riku figured out how to rock himself shallowly against his prostate and then his mind was utterly emptied. He groaned loud, heatedly, head tilted far back.

Perfect feedback. Riku, satisfied that he'd found that angle again, didn't let up on it and started to move his hips more. The _pressure_ was good but still pressure; Sora winced, his body only able to take so much at once, and Riku found a pace that wouldn't overwhelm.

Gently, Sora reached up to tilt Riku's face towards him, wanting to see. It was all want and tenderness and Riku couldn't resist kissing him again for very long. They reconnected, his hand back on Sora's cock, and his motions weren't familiar to himself but they were adaptable. Riku stroked him in sync with his thrusts (not always consistent, sometimes starting to get faster) and Sora started to moan, becoming more in tune with all the pleasures washing over him.

Inevitably, his hands wound up in Riku's hair.

Discomfort was occasional but drowned out by how perfectly _hot_ he felt, and the blatant affection in Riku's kiss made it feel adoringly chaste. Sora started to move with him, and he he guided the pace to a faster, urgent one. Eventually Riku had to break the kiss but he compensated, mouthing along his jaw sweetly. Nipping him, when he remembered what it felt like to be marked and wondered if Sora would enjoy it too. From the way he mewled, Riku thought that was the case.

“Riku...” With an accidental pull at his roots, Sora arched into him with a loud gasp every time he felt that telling, intense wave of _so good_ , and that pleasure was hitting him more and more frequently. “Soon...”

“Ngh-... Me too...” Riku groaned quietly, loving the breathless quality to his voice and the little whimpers by his ear. “You're amazing...”

Sora practically hugged himself against Riku's chest, panting harder until he lost the ability to breathe completely. A cry cut itself off as a squeak and he buried his face into Riku's neck, clutching onto him like a lifeline.

Then he spasmed, inside and out, and Riku didn't think he'd ever felt _anything_ like that. Sora was totally unreserved, completely open in his ecstasy, and Riku almost didn't bite down on his lip in time to muffle his moan. Orgasm rushed to meet him and he bucked, buried himself inside, and let it happen.

The transition from climax to snuggling was seamless. Sora brought himself up a bit and nuzzled Riku's hair, catching his breath with a contented hum.

“... That was...” Riku murmured, eyes drifting lazily closed as he tried to sort out the lung situation. His whole body was buzzing; that was new.

“Mhm,” Sora agreed cheerfully.

“I mean... I knew it would be, but... damn.”

Still blissfully flushed, Sora pulled away just enough to get a look at his face, and bit his lip. Riku looked...

Well, he wouldn't say it _out loud_ in case he took it the wrong way, but Riku looked _beautiful_. Which was weird, because his hair was all messed up and his lips were a little swollen and he had this unfocused look to his eyes that was almost silly.

That look vanished, though, as Riku misinterpreted the look on Sora's face as either pain or regret.

“... What's wrong?”

“Huh?” Sora blinked. “Just want to... look, you know.”

Riku relaxed. “... Sorry, I've got this fear that you'll think this was a huge mistake.”

Aw, that was stupid. Riku was stupid.

Sora winced a little into a kiss when Riku reached down and carefully pulled out of him, and he hoped it had gone unnoticed. He wrapped around him, thinking that he might've covered it up, but Riku hadn't missed it anyway.

“Sore...?”

Damn it! Maybe it was the post-coital vulnerability, but Sora felt a little guilty, just _knowing_ that Riku was probably looking for a reason to hate himself for what they'd just done.

“A bit...” he confessed.

“Should I do anything...? I'll get you whatever you need...”

Holding him a bit tighter, Sora shook his head in refusal. What he really wanted was to keep Riku there for continued snuggles. “It's not that bad.”

Shifting to lie down next to him, Riku _did_ break away, but only to discard the condom. Then he settled beside Sora and kissed his cheek. “... If you're sure. Sorry, I tried to be careful...”

“I know. You were, too,” Sora reassured him, putting his head against Riku's chest. “I think first times just kinda, you know. Make you sore. I _liked_ it – you liked it, right?”

“I liked it,” he confirmed, unhesitating. Sora smiled at his collarbone, starting to feel like his eyelids weighed a ton.

“Good. Don't get all broody, okay?”

Riku almost frowned, but all self-rebuke aside, he was a little too hazy with afterglow to be offended. “I'm not broody...”

What Sora probably mumbled was, “Prove it, no brooding,” but it came out a mumbled mess against his pectoral. Unexpectedly exhausted, he dropped off in a matter of minutes, dozing on Riku in an endearing sprawl.

Grinning like a fool and blown away by affection, Riku tried to watch the end of the movie and wound up watching Sora, instead.


	20. Private Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND LO, WE RETURN. We're so psyched to be writing again, you have no idea.
> 
> For those who don't follow our tumblr, we've laid out our remaining schedule [in this post here!](http://lanternjawedstudmuffin.tumblr.com/post/137200059882/updates-resuming) If you don't feel like clicking it, the gist is this: 'Would It Fucking Kill You?' is set to wrap up on March 2, 2016. HUZZAH.
> 
> We hope you enjoy the chapter, and if you're at all let down because you think this one wasn't worth the wait... I can assure, the _next_ chapter will be. Oh, yes. It will be. Thank y'all for your patience!

There was one obvious breadcrumb to start following the trail on. Axel honestly wasn't sure whether or not he and Roxas would amount to anything at all, now, be it the most intimate of lovers or most casual of friends... But he had a name, he had a place to start, and he _had_ to understand. Something had gone wrong with Ansem, and he wanted to know about it.

Finding out who Ansem was seemed a good start, and that lead him to Demyx.

Discounting the odd sex dream, Axel often forgot that Demyx and Roxas had gone to enough of the same parties to fall into bed together. That meant they’d have mutual acquaintances, and even though Demyx hadn't offered him more than a puzzled look and a, “I think I remember that guy? I didn't sleep with him,” he had somewhere to _go_ with that.

Like the cafe Demyx unwillingly worked at part-time.

Setting himself up at a table – quite the selection – Axel put his feet up on the chair across from him and whipped out his phone. Demyx, true to his musician's soul, had refused to do more than busk for money until the rent had almost crushed them both in its merciless maw. Then he'd found a very artsy, very out-of-the-wall little hole in the wall to barista for, and they started making rent by the skin of their collective teeth.

Axel didn't know how long it'd last. He wasn't sure how this place even earned enough to break even... but he was no Business major. Maybe they cut back on health and safety practices to save the big bucks, who knew. The ‘complimentary’ coffee he'd wheedled out of Demyx was still delicious, in that it was free so he had no right to complain about it in any way.

Regardless, he wasn't here for the coffee. He was there for the company, which had only been tentatively promised.

Demyx had a few regulars that mostly came in to flirt, and one of them tended to show up at exactly one in the afternoon if he was going to show up at all. Xigbar, loathe to be predictable, spent his lunch breaks at the cafe on days that were too boring to go without a pick-me-up, and never announced himself in advance. If he was forewarned of his arrival, it might not be a surprise. That'd be no good.

He was just so cute when he perked up in surprise, pushing himself up off the counter and declaring, “Hi, Xiggy!”

Axel, on his sixth game of phone Solitaire, glanced up. Great. Exactly who he wanted to see.

Legitimately, for a change. He wasn't fond of Xigbar, generally, but he was a necessary evil.

“Hey, Dem,” Xigbar swaggered over the counter. “Dead as hell in here, eh?”

He nodded cheerily. “Yeah, but I've got Axel keeping me company, today.”

Only just taking notice, Xigbar looked round in time to see Axel give him a curt nod.

“I wanted to talk to _you_ , actually.”

“Sure, uh... Hey,” Xigbar greeted, faintly bewildered, before turning back to Demyx with curling lips. “Alright, coffee me, doll face.”

“Comin' up!”

As Demyx set about fussing with the coffee maker – a finicky bitch, that machine, temperamental and crotchety in its old age – Xigbar pulled a chair far back from the table to collapse in. Not the table Axel was sitting at, because that might suggest the world didn't revolve around him, which was simply ridiculous. Axel got up to switch tables, bending to his ego’s gravitational pull because he needed to play nice for a while.

Xigbar just _rubbed_ him the wrong way, in general. Maybe it was the sleazy sort of confidence that Axel didn't like. It was like looking into a less attractive mirror.

And there was that time he came home to find him nailing Demyx to their front door. Their _front door_. Even the living room was only a few feet away, surely he could've wrangled some self-control. Xigbar had proposed they make it a three-way, and took Axel's polite decline to mean he could resume, rather than stop long enough to let him into his own apartment.

Jackass.

“Demyx said you knew a guy named Ansem,” Axel threw that out there, up-front. Xigbar was shuffling in his chair, optimizing the amount of comfort he could get from it, and grinning.

“'Course I know Ansem.”

He dropped into the chair across from him, interrogation-style. He thought about turning it around to sit backwards, but figured that might be overkill. “You have any idea what happened between him and a guy named Roxas?”

At the mention, Xigbar snickered, a bit of a leer on his face. “Oh no, you're not hung up on _him_ , are you?”

Like hell he was going to take that from _him_. “Just tell me what happened, would you?”

Xigbar stretched his arms back to cradle his head, clearly relishing how long he could keep Axel hanging now that he had information he _wanted._

“Not sure Ansem would like me telling,” Xigbar tutted. “Anyway, you're barkin' up one helluva wrong tree with Roxas.”

There it was again - the reputation. Was _everyone_ he knew going to give him that knowing, slightly pitying look when he brought up Roxas? If he was as infamous as that, by what astronomical odds had Axel never heard of him before he’d already wandered into his life and set up a nice little home for himself there? Gossip was supposed to be the backbone of the queers!

If Xigbar dared to mention fair-haired baked goods of any kind, Axel swore he’d be out the one eye he still had.

“If you skip the 'advice' and just spill the story, Demyx will let you grope him.”

His bargaining chip turned abruptly, china mug in his hand and more caught off-guard than offended. “Hey-...!”

“Now, I can't go around groping without consent, can I? As if,” Xigbar drawled, managing to make the only decent thing ever to come from his mouth sound like a joke. With his good eye, he stared at Demyx and lurched forward to the edge of his seat. “'Course, it'd make Dem a pretty bad friend if he said no.”

“I'm dating Zexy!” Demyx practically whined.

“It'd just be a grope,” Axel dismissed. Was it moral, to gamble on Demyx's willingness and pony him up like a prize? Nah. Did he care? ... Not really.

Xigbar left the chair to lean against the counter, lowering his voice. “You know you miss my hands on your ass,” he muttered like it was fact, then turned to Axel as he gestured at Demyx. “This guy won't even tell me how the shrimp stacks up against me.”

“And I'm not gonna!” Demyx was going red. “ _Axel_...!”

“You're the best bargaining chip I've got,” Axel shrugged. “Well?”

His cheeks were glowing so bright that Santa would've hitched him to the front of the sleigh, ousting Rudolph back into a life of mockery and derision. Demyx chewed the inside of his cheek as he filled the coffee cup, putting it down on the counter on a plain saucer. “... Just one! After the story!”

“Sure you can't sweeten the deal, babe?” Xigbar gave him a blatant once-over as he took the coffee. Demyx slumped against the counter to bury his face in his arms.

“I'm _dating Zexion!_ ” His protest was muffled.

“We'll negotiate after you tell me what happened between Ansem and Roxas.”

Snickering, Xigbar took his coffee back to sit. “This all went down, eh… ‘bout a year ago? Bit more? Whatever. I don't know specifics. But I know Ansem, and I know he likes his squeeze to be... well, _fresh_ , if you know what I'm sayin'.”

A trickle of reflexive revulsion ran down Axel's brow like a bead of sweat and made his eyebrows crease. He nodded, pretty sure he _did_ understand. Creepy.

Best not think on that too much more before he had more of the facts.

“So in comes Roxas outta nowhere. All little blonde-haired, blue-eyed trophy jail-bait. I don't know how they met, he doesn't tell me that. I just know he got obsessed from day one.”

Demyx had lifted his head, looking like he was about to interject, but quickly went sheepish and quiet. Axel noticed him turn away, but decided not to say anything just yet.

“Tell ya' the truth, you'd have to hear it straight from one of them,” Xigbar picked up his coffee. “Almost no one ever saw them when they were doing their thing... Not unless Ansem wanted to show 'im off.”

“... Interesting,” Axel muttered, in the same way someone might when observing a clump of baby spiders swarming over their mother and devouring her whole.

Sipping his coffee, Xigbar caught a glimpse of Demyx's fidgeting. “Got something to say, or are you just thinkin' about me grabbing you again?”

Demyx's blush lit up like Christmas again. “No! Nothing!”

“There's more to the story than that, right?” Axel looked between the both of them.

“You can't know _nothing_ , Dem. You were there, too.”

Axel gave him a sharp look. “... How much _do_ you know?”

“I told you before... Not a _lot_... I mean, we were at the same club,” Demyx fumbled, still embarrassed. “It wasn't long after we did _our_ thing – me and Roxas, we blocked the bedroom door with an end table and borrowed the bed but I was a little drunk and he wasn't that experienced yet so we weren't gone all that long. Then we just went back to the party to hang around and Ansem was there, and they kind of went off together and I didn't see Roxas very much after that.”

“Yeah, _no one_ did,” Xigbar chimed in, and Axel nodded slowly.

He was starting to get something of a picture, and he didn't think it was at all to his tastes.

“Anyway,” Xigbar breezed, “that lasted a couple months, then they broke up just as easy as they got together. Ansem wasn't even pissed or anything, so I guess he did the breaking.”

Axel's nod was a little absent, still contemplating.

“Oh, shit!” Suddenly, Xigbar's entire demeanor changed, sitting upright and leaning across the table. Whatever he had to say was clearly the juiciest gossip of the whole affair, and it brought Axel back into the conversation. “Get this – after that, Ansem told me he _never_ got around to fucking the kid. Not even once. Like, what kinda dumbass move was that?”

“What? Really?” Axel was honestly surprised. For one, that didn't fit with the idea of Ansem he was developing... and while he wanted to think that was a good thing (hurray, the guy hadn't forced sexual situations on a minor, what a hero) he wasn't sure what to make of it. Could he have done worse? _Was_ there worse?

Maybe Ansem had lied. It'd behoove him to; the law wouldn't be in his corner, on that one.

But maybe he hadn't lied, and if that was the case, there was big blank spot on the canvas.

“Yeah, seriously.” Xigbar was still unaffected. “Wouldn't tell me why, either. Tell ya' what, though, he was mad as _hell_ when the kid turned up two weeks later picking up dudes left and right. Guess he's over it by now, there's been at least three new ones since Roxas.”

That was an alarming thing to be blase about, but coming from Xigbar, that wasn't surprising. If there really wasn't sex happening between Ansem and these young guys, Axel guessed that a good chunk of their mutual acquaintances wouldn't see what was wrong.

Especially if they also knew Roxas. He had to have been sixteen – above the consent line, in that disturbing technicality way – but there was never a question as to whether or not he wanted the sex he was having.

Overall, Axel was troubled and perplexed. He'd accept that Ansem and Roxas hadn't slept together, or far worse.

“So they didn't-... Or, wouldn't...”

“Look, I don't question this shit anymore. Ansem's kind of an intense guy, you know?” In the time Axel had spent thinking, Xigbar had finished his coffee and set down the empty cup.

Leaning against the table, Axel made the decision to think on this more later. “Alright, you've earned your palming of Dem's ass.”

“Al _right_ ,” Xigbar smirked. “Bring it here, Coffee-boy.”

Demyx buried his face in his hands. “Ax _el_...”

“I'd let him grope me, but I'm not so narcissistic to assume he'd want that. I'm growing as a person, here. Just let him get one good squeeze in.”

“But I'm -”

“Dating Zexion. Yes, we know.”

“For old time's sake, at least,” Xigbar coaxed. “I'm like a VIP for your ass by now, that should at least merit under-the-pants groping rights.”

If Demyx were really that uncomfortable with it, he would've directly said no. That was the great thing about Demyx. He was never willing to expend unnecessary effort protesting if he wasn't actually on-board.

“You won't be any less annoyingly gushy about him, and it'll be more action than you've gotten since -”

Demyx squeaked, cutting Axel off. “Don't tell him that!”

It was too late. Xigbar's eyebrows raised so high they seemed to be trying to join his hairline. “You mean he's not even _getting any?_ Christ, Dem, has it fallen off or something?”

With a miserable sort of groan, Demyx hopped the counter. “Just grope me and stop talking!”

“I almost feel guilty. Might make you hard on the job if I do...” Xigbar's smirk widened. “Then again...”

 _That_ made Demyx grow vehement, even as he came over to the table. “No! I'm not gonna cheat on him!”

Yup, there was the line in the sand. Axel rolled his eyes at Xigbar. “Just grope him and be done with it, will you?”

“Alright, chill. I'm just messing with ya'.”

Seizing his hips, Xigbar swiveled him in the right direction and felt over his ass with one wide palm, blatant in his indulgence. He sat back a little to admire as he copped his feel, entertaining ideas of who-knew-what, and no one was going to ask. Demyx buried his heated face in one hand again, having to admit to himself that it did feel good to be touched again...

He'd still tell Zexion about this, later. He hoped he wouldn't be mad, because there was no way it meant anything. Just, in the meantime. No reason he couldn't appreciate the situation.

Then Xigbar grabbed him roughly, wanting to see him jump, and Demyx did so with another squeak.

“Okay, that's enough!”

“... You are _so_ pent-up,” Axel shook his head.

Xigbar barked a laugh, raising his hand as though displaying proof that he wasn't touching anymore. “You are too good to be off the scene, Dem.”

“I'm not _totally_ off...” Demyx mumbled, collecting the coffee cup. “We do... things.”

“He's right. I walked in on a few steamy cuddling sessions.”

Xigbar snorted.

“Shut up!” Demyx carried the mug back over, blush determined to color his face a permanent pink. He wasn't going to tell _Axel_ (or Xigbar, especially not Xigbar) about Zexion's sexual explorations. Those were private, and special, and he didn't need to prove anything.

“Got to get back,” Xigbar hauled himself up, alight with amusement. “Good luck with that – both of you.”

He started to whistle as he left the coffee shop, and Axel had the weirdest sense that he actually kind of meant that.

 

* * *

 

Roxas had, officially, no idea what he was doing anymore.

He was backed into a corner, but it shouldn’t've been like that. If Axel loved him – and despite his paper-thin attempt at backpedaling, Roxas had to believe he _did_ – that was it. It had to be. Second only to Axel never wanting to see him again, a confession was the easiest, most final sign he could cut ties and bail. Hell, Axel _expected_ him to.

So it could only be by a pure, stubborn _need_ to be contrary that Roxas still texted him the next day.

Just a bland, totally innocuous greeting. He might as well have disposed with pretense and sent ‘ _Ha-ha told you so,’_ because they both knew that was what it meant.

It wasn’t remotely satisfying as a victory, or a goodbye, if that’s what it was. But, with that done, Roxas prepared to wash his hands of the whole affair.

… For about five minutes, until his phone lit up with Axel’s reply.

Clever bastard.

So, _no_ , Roxas hadn’t actually planned this far ahead. He was so not prepared to actually follow through with the gesture.

For days, Axel’s text went ignored, and Roxas reassured himself that he _was_ ignoring it, not despairing over what to say if and when he did answer.

It was like Axel had, by sheer determination, willed his presence into Roxas’s head. Even his thoughts couldn’t be rid of him, which was ridiculous because it was _obvious_ what he had to do. Axel loved him. He couldn’t see him anymore. Simple as that.

Why the fuck hadn’t the situation clued into how simple it was yet?!

There would never be a better time to run than now. If he stuck around, even to see him one more time, he’d be encouraging this. One way or another, he’d be giving Axel hope. If he ran, then…

Then, just that. Axel would be out of his life, and he’d be likewise out of Axel’s. Life would be almost identical to how it had been three months before.

... Had it already been three months? Had it _only_ been three months?

Like clockwork, Roxas’s phone would inevitably end up in his hand a few times every day, contacts open, displaying the annoyingly present message. He’d hover over the reply button, move to the delete button, and abruptly remember That One Really Important Thing He Had to Do Right Now.

Actually, the other parts of his life had teamed up on his social life, and made it easy to avoid. Every college on his list just had to have its very own special deadline for his application, week after week, but no one had told his current teachers that. Actually, someone probably had, but they must have just liked watching their students squirm. And with Sora and Riku gaying up the house, everywhere between Roxas’s bedroom and the front door felt like No Man’s Land. Outside was fucking freezing, though, so why would he want to go there?

His boring-ass job, yet again, turned out to be Axel’s best wingman.

There was such a thing as a slower day than usual in this place. Somehow, several of his co-workers out sick with the flu hadn’t made things busier. Their call lists had been distributed amongst those still standing, so there were more calls to make, but the general take-away from this was that there was just less competition to make quota, and no one needed to try too hard.

Roxas had no qualms joining in on that attitude. More calls really just meant more dial tones to listen to, and more thirty-second samples of all the ways he could be told to go away. His heart wasn’t even in it enough to pretend he couldn’t take a hint the first time. He might have even thanked and hung up on some people before they’d finished their excuses, he couldn’t remember. Hours were blurring together, and there weren’t enough voices around him to drown out the buzz of fluorescent lights. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was actually getting _louder_ , presumably just because it was excited to finally be heard.

His breaks were feeling less like _breaks_ , and more time simply existing to make the day longer.

Roxas took out his phone, and accepted the inevitable.

He disregarded the days-old opening for a conversation - claiming he’d been too busy or forgot would be an obvious lie, and answering without making an excuse would be as good as declaring he’d spent all that time thinking of a reply - and started over.

The muffled buzz against Axel’s coffee table was like something rising from the dead. In a way, something _had_.

_[Blonde Cookie. 2:51 PM]: 'Hey. You busy?'_

It was several minutes before Axel took notice of the text notification, though, then another five to sort out what his emotional response was. He concluded that he had no fucking clue.

_[Axel. 2:59 PM]: 'No.'_

That could, conceivably, have been a lie, what with the myriad of assignments he should be working on. 'Myriad' meaning, three.

Roxas wrestled with himself over what to say next, kind of wishing the text had contained a question he could respond to. The only way to push the conversation along was to act as though it had.

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:00 PM]: 'At work. Everything is terrible. Nothing new.'_

_[Axel. 3:00 PM]: 'Sucks, man.'_

Ugh. Unless he wanted to beat his head against a metaphorical wall of dialogue, one of them really needed to start opening some doors. Usually it was Axel; he'd been easy to talk to, before. Roxas bit down on a small ripple of indignation. He’d finally worked himself up to make contact with Axel again. He’d been under the impression that was what Axel _wanted_ , and now he was making it difficult.

Frowning, Roxas considered giving up and ignoring his phone for a few more days.

... He'd try one more time. Throw him one freebie, which he could take or leave.

If Axel left it, at least he’d know what to do.

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:02 PM]: 'You?'_

Axel sighed at his phone, and decided to just go for it.

_[Axel. 3:03 PM]: 'Just drowning in assignments but not actually doing them. Pretty bland day.'_

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:04 PM]: 'Assignments you'll suddenly be motivated to do later tonight? or are you committing to this procrastination?'_

So he was going somewhere with this.

_[Axel. 3:05 PM]: 'When I procrastinate, I procrastinate hard.'_

Roxas was equally surprised to find he _was_ going somewhere with this.

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:05 PM]: 'You could break the monotony by driving me home'_

Roxas turned his phone over in his hand a few times absently. He was only half-serious, but he hoped that being honest about taking advantage of Axel's bike would somehow be less shitty of him.

It wasn't clear to Axel, though, if he was just being texted for a ride. Was this going to be picking him up, driving him back to his house, dropping him on his doorstep, and watching the door slam in his face? Because that wasn't exactly his idea of a good time...

... But if he didn't go at all, who knew if Roxas would reach out again.

_[Axel. 3:06 PM]: 'Why get a taxi when a bike vibrates, right?'_

Roxas almost smiled. He felt a little stab of guilt – this kind of felt like using Axel, especially considering what he’d been doing last night with some guy not important enough for him to remember the name of – but the mood seemed to have lightened enough to make a joke.

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:07 PM]: 'But hurry, this tempting offer won't last long'_

_[Axel: 3:07 PM]: 'When are you off?'_

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:08 PM]: '4. Maybe 3:30 if I snap and murder my supervisor.'_

_[Axel. 3:08 PM]: 'Don't kill him. Gives me time to peel myself off the couch.'_

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:08 PM]: 'Fiiiiiiine.'_

He turned his phone over in his hand again before deciding to (unknowingly) answer what was on both of their minds.

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:09 PM]: 'Parents are out til 7. I can pay fare with my company'_

Axel was surprised enough to forget to text back, for a minute.

_[Axel. 3:11 PM]: 'You don't have credit card?'_

_[Axel. 3:11 PM]: 'Hanging out sounds good, too.'_

He was kind of hasty in sending the second text. Didn't want Roxas to think he was spurning him, or some shit.

_[Blonde Cookie. 3:11 PM]: 'See you at 4'_

Roxas buried his face in both hands - not a comfortable experience what with the phone still in his hand. Still, this was a moment he needed to emphatically curse himself for giving into the guilty jabs, because there was no freakin' way they'd avoid talking about _it_ if they were face to face.

He only lifted his head when he heard the telltale squeak of his supervisor's shoes, and drew out the last few calls he made for as long as he could manage.

The drive home was awkward. Roxas had simply been passed a helmet and hopped on board, when Axel showed up with the bike, the cold unpleasant and the driver really tense. The vibration wasn't as stimulating as usual, thanks to a determined cloud raining discomfort down on them the entire trip, and the discomfort of a faintly sore ass on the seat.

Sure, Roxas was still a _little_ tingly when they got back, but it wasn't urgent. And Axel had successfully avoided arousal by questioning, repeatedly, what Roxas might do or say. The unwelcome idea that he might have been brought over for some severance sex had crossed his mind, too. One pity-lay before it was game over, thanks for playing.

Parking the bike, he removed his helmet and followed Roxas up to the front door. He made a conscious effort not to look as cautious as he felt, and pointedly didn't hesitate when crossing the threshold.

Removing his shoes, Roxas was already turning down the hallway. “I'm getting ice cream. You want some?”

Middle of winter, and Roxas wanted ice cream. He had to be addicted. “Sure.”

While Axel meandered to the living room, Roxas rummaged through the freezer with unpleasantly stiff hands; even his gloves hadn't protected them completely. Honestly, ice cream _wouldn't_ have been the first thing he did under normal circumstances, but the distraction they'd lend was his only hope of suppressing his 'fight or flight' response.

He favored flight. He wanted to flight the crap out of this situation, now that he was in it.

Removing two ice cream bars, he steeled himself and tried to remember how to act casual. Strangely, what came to mind was Axel's usual behavior.

Shake it off, go back to the living room...

He held out the ice cream bar to Axel as he sat down, unwrapping his own. The elephant sharing the couch them was not offered any ice cream.

“So... what do you feel like? Game? Movie? Rousing conversation?”

Roxas silently implored him not to choose the last option. Axel was looking uncomfortable, giving him an unreadable look and sitting forward, like he expected he'd have to get up soon. Or maybe that was the elephant shoving him over for more space.

“I figured you had something in mind.”

“I don't usually have a plan when I ask you over,” Roxas denied lightly.

“I thought the usual plan was to fuck my brains out. Or vice versa.”

He shrugged. “Can do that too, if you want...” he sank into the couch. “But after ice cream.”

Sex had never fixed things between them _before_ , but Roxas still would never turn it down. Axel finished unwrapping his ice cream bar.

“... Pass.”

There was a heavily pregnant pause in the conversation long overdue, and they spent it licking ice cream bars and waiting for the other one to get it over with.

The elephant, meanwhile, had stood up and started rampaging around the room, crushing furniture underfoot and trumpeting mightily, all in total silence.

“... We have to talk about this.” Axel, true to form, spoke up.

“About what? We're doing exactly the same thing as before.”

“Except now you know I'm in love with you.”

Briefly, Roxas closed his eyes. The confirmation had been the last thing he wanted, or needed, to hear. “Does that change anything about what you said to me the other day?”

“... I don't know.”

He wished Axel had just given him 'yes' or 'no'. If yes, they could have called everything quits. If no, they could have just went on as though nothing had changed.

Roxas eyes had opened by now, but wouldn’t travel anywhere near Axel.

“If you think you can love me, knowing what I do... Then I just feel sorry for you.”

“I feel kinda sorry for me, too,” Axel muttered, after a bite of his ice cream. “I know you're not unfeeling, but you're cold. Don't act offended,” he sighed, “you know you are.”

Roxas tried not to combat that. “You must be a sucker for punishment. But congratulations. You're the first.”

“Pretty hollow victory.”

“Sorry, I guess?”

“You make it sound like falling for you's some kind of challenge,” Axel rolled his eyes. “It's not. Actually _being_ in love with you, that's the part that sucks. I wouldn't change you, Roxy, and that's exactly why this'll never work out for us. Mostly for me.”

That... kind of stung. It was enough for Roxas to disregard the nickname, idly licking his ice cream to buy himself a second. “What does that mean?”

“It means I have... really limited options. I can walk away and never see you again, or I can stick around and love you. We both know that no matter how much you like me, you'll never _love_ me. That wouldn't be a problem except I'm never going to stop feeling... I don't know, cheap? Or used? Because you don't want to tell me when you're sleeping with other guys. I'm never going to stop feeling like I'm being cheated on, and I can't live with that bullshit again.”

A second elephant charged suddenly into their midst, but it would have to wait its turn.

Roxas ate his ice cream, and considered silently. Cheating was really only something he grasped the theory of. He knew he'd want to tear Riku or Terra apart on principle, if they cheated on his brothers, but... If he had to wrap his head around why it'd hurt Sora or Ven, all he could come up with was the lie. The fact that they'd been lied to. Or, would be, in this hypothetical situation.

He'd never lied about having sex with other guys, and Axel _knew_ that was going to happen. So where did the hurt factor in?

“... Third option,” he voiced, at last. “You realize it's not really worth it, and that fades away.”

It took Axel less than a second to understand he was talking about love. His reply was a little short. “I've been falling for you since you offered to improve my Internet service. That's not happening in the near future.”

Roxas stifled a grin. “... I'd make you, if I knew how. I just like you enough that I'd rather keep you around for a while.”

“And how long d'you think that'll be, with this new-found knowledge?” Axel took a bite of his ice cream. “Won't be the same. Every time we fuck, it's going to mean something else to me... And, as we found out, we can't _not_ fuck.”

“... Does mean something, sort of...” Defensively, Roxas pulled his knees up onto the couch, wearing his ice cream down to a sliver with licks.

Axel raised an eyebrow. “... How?”

“You're my friend. So it obviously means more than a random lay.”

Finishing off his ice cream, Axel licked blue-tinted lips and shrugged. “That’s something, at least.”

Not enough, obviously, but it was all Roxas had to offer. “I just want this to be simple.”

“It is. I love you, I'm your friend, you don't love me, we're not together.”

He had wonder, briefly, if Axel was mocking him. Probably not, but it turned his voice cold, anyway. “That's about the farthest thing from simple I've ever heard.”

“It's simple for _you_.”

“Like fuck it is,” Roxas argued, sitting up straighter. “You think I can just go through my day not thinking about it? Think it's not at the back of my mind every time we're together?”

“Why can't you?”

Roxas wanted to ask if he was kidding, but he didn’t need the answer. Clearly, _this_ was what Axel thought everything Roxas had ever felt for him added up to. He could almost see the ugly reflection of himself in Axel’s face, and for a second couldn’t speak through the hurt and insult.

“Because I know it's my fault that I'm hurting you all the time... And I can't do anything about it,” Roxas’s frustration only lasted partway through his sentence, crumbling into something tired and defeated by the end. “... Besides leave, which, believe me, I’ve tried.”

Quiet, Axel bit down briefly on his ice cream stick.

“And... If you don't think that's complicated for me, then you don't think much of me at all.”

“... Sorry,” Axel mumbled. “This just sucks.”

“Pretty much,” Roxas sighed. “But I like you anyway. Fucked up as that is.”

“... Like me enough to answer a question? Bear in mind, I know you'll be pissed.”

That was a dangerous way to open, if he’d ever heard one. “Depends on the question...”

Honestly, if he'd taken a second to think better of it, Axel probably wouldn't have said anything. As it was, the question that'd been bearing down on his brain finally slipped free, and Roxas's demeanor changed entirely.

“What happened with Ansem?”

It was like he'd threatened him, or worse. Roxas went rigid, eyes hard and stare cold. “Who the hell told you about that? Sora?”

Looks couldn't kill, but Roxas probably could, and Axel didn't want to incriminate him. “Guy named Xigbar told me as much of the story as he knew.”

“Xigbar? Ugh, for fuck's -...” he let the popsicle stick drop, something furiously working under the surface. But the looming explosion seemed to have been called off, replaced with a quiet, creeping toxin. “I don't feel like talking about Ansem.”

“... Okay.”

Still tense, Roxas snatched up both ice cream sticks to go dispose of them, going around the couch on his way to the kitchen. Axel shifted back into the pillows for defense, sighing under his breath and wondering what he'd been thinking, _asking_.

“... Want me to kick your virtual ass in something?” He called out, forced-casual being the best he could hope for. Roxas's affirmative didn't match his tone.

He threw out the sticks, and fumed. He still suspected his brother of saying _something_ , and what the hell gave him the right? He'd hoped Ansem was far enough in the past, now, to keep from Axel. He _should_ have been, until Axel had gone digging around for him.

Anger bubbling up, Roxas stared into the trash blindly for a moment, trying to force himself calm.

“Forget it,” he muttered venomously to himself, with every intention of shaking it off and pretending the interaction never happened. He stalked back to the living room, where Axel had just finished popping a game into the system and was starting to sit back down on the couch, when he abruptly reconsidered.

“Actually, no,” Roxas announced, through his teeth. “There _is_ something I want to talk about.”

Mid-squat over the couch, Axel slowed as he sank back. “... Alright. You're pissed.”

“You say that like I somehow _shouldn't_ be.” Roxas crossed his arms, glaring from the doorway. Axel turned to look at him, more prepared to defend his stance than soothe his ire.

He was mad that he found out about Ansem. In a sense, he could see why.

“What did you want me to do, accept being miserable without knowing why?!”

Roxas bristled, hating the feeling that he’d somehow _wronged_ Axel by having personal history. “And that makes you the victim? What the _fuck_ gives you the right to dig up my past behind my back?!”

“I'd never know anything if I _didn't_.”

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried asking Roxas first. Okay, maybe not about Ansem, but he was asking _now_. And any time he’d tried to prompt him to open up before, Roxas had given him no answer when one clearly existed. There was no other way to know.

Roxas’s hands curled into tight fists, lodged under his arms. “Did it not occur to you that I don't bring these things up because I don't _want_ you to know about them? Maybe because you _shouldn't_ know about them?”

“Seems to me that whatever happened with him, it's the whole reason we can't figure _us_ out,” Axel snapped, trying not to scowl. “That strikes me as something I should know.”

Roxas wasn't surprised, but he liked that answer even less. “So... what, then? Is your personal quest to 'figure me out' more important than my privacy?”

“I wasn't trying to invade your privacy. Hell, I thought _you_ wanted this worked out, too.”

Immediately, Roxas's mouth opened, but he seemed to rethink what he was about to say. He took a breath, anger still churning in his gut, but he was calmer – or, at least, quieter – when he did speak.

“... There's a part of my life I don't like to think about. I don't like being around people who make me remember it, either. I'd hate if if you, of all people, reminded me of it.”

Axel managed to feel annoyed for one whole second. In the heat of things, it sounded like some kind of threat - Roxas dangling his departure over Axel's head - and then the words actually sunk in.

He'd _hurt_ him. Whatever happened with Ansem was painful, in some way or the other, and Axel could've pieced that together on his own. Even before he'd known the guy's name, he could have figured that out. For good or ill, Roxas had left it behind in his own way, and Axel... Well, he sure wasn't helping.

Fuck. Guilt was the last thing he'd expected to come of this. Axel was just... naturally inclined to sneak, to snoop, and he kind of just forgot that maybe he _shouldn't_.

Questions could get him lies. If he made a search known, the answers could be covered up. It was better to trust his own eyes, and if he couldn’t have that, the word of people who had nothing to lose from the truth.

If he knew something was hidden from him, and did nothing, how many lies would he have to take with it? It was safer to _know._

But Roxas wasn't Saix, wronging him with secrets.

Axel's argument deflated, and Roxas lost most of the energy to tell him off. “... I'm not going to tell you what happened with Ansem. Not right now, anyway. But you might as well tell me what you know from Xigbar and... whoever else has been talking about it.”

“... Just Xigbar,” Axel answered, and decided it was enough of the truth. Sora had given him the name, but nothing else, and Demyx hadn't really known anything Xigbar hadn't told him in better words. “He told me the guy used to parade you around... Show you off. And that was the only time anyone even saw you.”

Roxas's frown deepened, but he didn't say anything to deny the account. He sighed. “Whatever you think that means, you're wrong...”

He didn't know _what_ it meant. He'd thought of different things, all about Ansem controlling Roxas, keeping him under his heel or on some kind of leash, and been too disturbed to let his train of thought continue.

It didn't matter. If he was right or wrong, he wouldn't say what he thought might've been.

“Okay... Then I won't ask.”

“... Thanks.”

He'd intended on mentioning what Xigbar said about them never having sex, but Axel realized that was never his business either. It all meant something or it all meant nothing, but it was relevant to _Roxas,_ not theories about Roxas.

... In a lot of ways, he knew that, now. A different part of Axel wished he had a way of knowing what happened without Roxas ever needing to tell him, if he actually intended to at all.

“... Sorry.”

Roxas dropped onto the couch beside him with a cool shrug. He didn't put much stock in the apology when Axel had fully intended on looking into his business. “I won't kick you out.”

“... Encouraging.” He was still pissed. Axel didn't blame him.

While he decided whether or not to drop the subject there, Roxas gestured to the console. “... So, you picked something?”

“Thought I'd decide quickly and get to the part where you're threatening to strangle me,” Axel eyed him, picking up a controller to offer Roxas. He was all the more confident in his choice of a fighting game, at least. Killing Axel virtually might be a good stress-reliever, after... everything.

“You're lucky this is cordless.”

They started up the game – in which Axel was, as he expected, thrashed repeatedly – but there was little to no conversation. The weight of even a single word might crumble the weakening foundation of their friendship – relationship – whatever anyone could possibly call it...

And, at last, Axel wondered if it might be better for both of them if he bailed before it broke.


	21. Handsome Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Underage Drinking (which was featured earlier, but this is in a different light) happens in this chapter, along with some other eyebrow-raising content involving a minor minor (like, it's a minor character, and they are a minor). There's nothing explicit enough to warrant tags, but we do want to give y'all a heads-up just so you aren't caught off-guard.

Experience was not always the best teacher, and that was only sometimes because experience could be extremely limited. Terra's, for example. It was limited to that one time he'd given Ven an impromptu handjob, and then felt kind of like a terrible person for it.

He'd learned one thing, though; that he and Ven really needed to talk about this whole... sex thing, with a little less reservation this time.

They weren't quite talking about it, now, but there was nonetheless more understanding. Terra's lips roved under Ven's jaw, exploratory, while Ven's hands embarked on a magical journey through the dips and hills of Terra's torso. He'd become really fond of the valley between his pecs, that was _nice_ and made Terra shiver a bit. They'd made straight from the front door to the bedroom upon coming home, because that was the primary site of a sleepover _anyway_ and while they were on the subject of sex (they hadn't been, really, they'd just kind of been hinting at it incessantly in the hopes the other would pick up what they were dropping) they sure would like to climb all over each other in comfort.

This time, they'd known what they were in for. This time, _Ven_ had known what he was in for, and he wanted to do it. More, actually, he'd timidly corrected. Terra had done most of the work, last time, and he didn't think that was really fair. They were in a healthy relationship, and a _healthy relationship_ was between equals. Which meant equal share in sexy touching. His logic was irrefutable, and Terra felt a lot better about the whole thing.

Ven's gentle fingers glided over his shoulders, and Terra accidentally sank back to the mattress at his apparent prompting. A little sound of surprise left Ven when he was brought down with him, but he laughed and parted his legs to fit over Terra's hips comfortably.

“Sorry...” Terra grinned against his throat, and kissed a line back up to the hollow behind his jaw.

“S'okay... I'm good like this...”

Most of his weight sank against Terra, needing to lean forward to give proper access to his neck. As always, the tiny worry that he was crushing his boyfriend flitted through his brain, but he didn't bring it up because Terra always laughed at him when he said that. There were usually comparisons made to tiny, weightless things. Newborn kittens, for example. Or a plastic bag, stuffed full of more plastic bags as they were steadily accumulated from grocery stores, you know how it is.

Yup, Terra didn't seem even remotely effected by Ven's weight. He sucked very gently, really _wanting_ to but having no desire to mar his skin with hickeys. The idea crossed his mind to put Ven underneath him – mostly for access reasons – but the image made his breathing stutter.

That might be too much, too fast.

A little moan made him reconsider. Ven's hands were spread on his chest for balance, feeling him up to his heart's content, and it was awfully warm in his bedroom. He compromised, guiding Ven to lie down beside him, and kissing his lips. There was another sound from Ven (totally not a squeak) and he kissed back enthusiastically.

Only one thing could improve the situation, and Ven questioningly reached for the hem of Terra's shirt. Pectoral Valley was even nicer without fabric in the way.

Terra caught on kind of slow, but helped Ven remove it once he clued in. His eyes wandered once it was gone, in a way that kind of surprised himself – Ven felt giddily _naughty_ , ogling his boyfriend's chest while distinctly lustful thoughts crossed his mind. As far as racy inclinations went, some might find them rather _tame_ , but it was a matter of perspective. They were well outside Ven's norm.

Hands slowly started to drift, even more interested than he'd been with the shirt on. Hyper-aware of every touch, Terra hummed a little, observing Ven's interest with more interest than embarrassment. Embarrassment was still there, like the awkward plus-one accompanying his arousal to the party, but it didn't really matter when everyone was having such a good time.

There was a definite air of mapping out brand new territory, Ven's hands gliding down his sides and carefully lowering to his hips.

“Mn -” Terra almost twitched.

Fingers promptly retreated in surprise, and Ven glanced up at him.

“It's okay,” he reassured him hurriedly, a little inclined to express himself with kissing but not sure how clearly the message would be received. “That's good...”

Ven instantly relaxed. His fingers dragged up nonetheless, pressing into the muscle a little, and Terra closed his eyes.

“That's really good...”

Encouraged, Ven ducked his head to place a gentle kiss to his collarbone. He'd kind of just remembered that he had free reign and all the opportunities ever to do more, if he wanted, and that seemed a good reason to dapple kisses lower. Terra moaned, barely keeping it quiet, but went a little tense when his brain whispered, _'Too fast.'_

“Whoa -... Ven...”

He paused, thinking he was about to be pushed away. Terra breathed in, and reminded himself that Ven wouldn't move at a pace he wasn't comfortable with.

So, was _Terra_ comfortable?

... Yeah, actually. This didn't feel... dirty, or anything.

He ran a hand through Ven's hair. “It's good...”

“Mm...” Ven smiled against his skin, nuzzling his hand. Affection warmed them, and out of appropriate concern, Terra's other hand gave the tiniest tug to Ven's shirt.

“Can I...?”

“Yeah.”

They had to separate a little again to get the shirt off, and with all the undressing they were doing, it crossed Terra's mind to remove his pants. Partly because he'd chosen jeans today – a rarity – and they were becoming uncomfortable...

Actually... mostly for that reason. And now that he'd thought of it, the _reason_ they were so uncomfortable was the small tent his cock was trying to pitch in them. _Geez_ , that seemed... _early_ into things...

He hoped Ven hadn't noticed, but when the next thing he did was climb into Terra's lap to press right against him, it seemed unlikely. The warmth so close to his concealed, stirring arousal made him groan.

As it so happened, Ven was too busy marveling at the sounds Terra made (that _he_ made Terra make, how amazing was that) to take immediate notice. He was spurred on to almost grind against the bulge in the process of wrapping around Terra, and he felt it _that_ time.

“ _Ven_...”

He wrapped his arms around him, wanted to rock up against his ass, and Ven looked up at him with bright eyes full of intrigue.

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah... It's fine,” Terra nodded a bit stiffly, because 'stiff' was the way he was doing things right now. “I mean it's good, you can just keep doing whatever you want... I like it.”

Experimentally, Ven squirmed in his lap with as much deliberate shifting against the burgeoning erection as possible. Before Terra could really help himself he was grinding up against him, moan more breathless, and an exhale caught in Ven's throat. He really hadn't expected that to feel so good...

With a shiver, he tried grinding down on him again and was suddenly overturned. Terra kissed him, so hungrily and unexpectedly that he'd put Ven almost underneath him in the process, and the room seemed to get twice as hot.

“Mm-...!” Ven's groan was muffled, hips straining up against him, and he held on to keep the kiss going. In a barely-controlled rhythm, Terra rocked his hips over Ven's slow and constant, small groans trapped by their tongues and he _wanted_ so badly. More of this, more of _more_ , and Ven felt desired and warm and -

Oh, _oh_ , wait -

He turned his head, breathing and movements both stuttering. “I need to -”

“Need-... what?” Terra blinked, a little hazy. In a frenzy that was almost panicked, Ven scrambled to remove his own pants.

“If I don't take them off now, it'll be bad...”

What kind of dork came in their pants when they were just kissing and grinding with their boyfriend? The kind who wound up having to wash their own clothes in the dead of night to avoid being asked mortifying questions by their mom about the stains (only to overestimate the amount of soap needed and flooding the basement with bubbles), he bet.

“Oh -! Yeah... Okay...” Terra sat up, helping Ven remove them. Being a little shaky, he appreciated the help – Ven was embarrassingly close already, but Terra wasn't honestly any better off and now Ven was _naked_. That kind of helped matters along. Or worsened them, depending on your point of view.

Terra was feeling too good about everything to think of any pleasure as bad.

“... You're amazing,” he praised, kind of reverent or even grateful just to be able to look at him. Ven wrapped around Terra with a murmur of his name, just for the sake of touching, and he was so _close_ and felt so _nice_. It was almost lamentable that he might need to move again, but Terra had to ask, “Can I... Is it okay if I take mine off?”

“Yeah, you can...” Nodding quickly, Ven reached down to unbutton his jeans, and the hesitation was back for them both as the pants were ditched. Last time... Ven hadn't really taken a good _look_ , and they were uncomfortably aware of that fact.

Curious and skittish, Ven's palm brushed him through his boxers. He swallowed hard, _feeling_ him really distinctly and kind of surprised by how hot it was. Temperature-wise, not... Although, it _was_ hot too, because the barrier of thin cotton hadn't impeded sensation much and Terra's breath caught with a little hiss of, “Yes...”

“Can I...?” With a little thrill, he traced the waistband.

Terra's ability to think seemed to be evaporating out of his head. It took him a second to comprehend what Ven wanted, because what could anyone want more than the pleasant glide of Ven's thumb against his skin, but then he clued in when the word 'more' popped into his head.

“Yeah...”

Raising his eyes to Terra's, Ven kept them there as he began sliding the boxers down. Watching felt... immodest. Luckily Terra was eager to distract them, and they were kissing before either one of them could get anxious about it. The position and contact prevented him from removing them completely, and Ven withdrew his hands. They brushed bare skin, in the process, and Terra's inhale wasn't unlike a hiss.

Where had he touched? Ven hadn't actually identified it. Whoa, had he touched somewhere... _good?_

Either way, Terra was breaking away, finishing the job... which left Ven with nothing but opportunity, and he was unable to help seizing it. _Visually_ seizing. _Looking_. Ven bit his lip, and stared.

He'd only ever seen... Okay, well, family never counted, and there'd been pictures in health class. Ven hadn't actually _looked_ at a cock that wasn't his own, but he was pretty sure Terra's was... _big_. It had _felt_ big against his own and it _looked_ big now.

Terra steadied his breathing with what could very loosely be defined as 'relative success', and anxiously took in Ven's expression. “Is this okay...?”

He blinked. “Yeah. It's fine – it's good!”

Actually, he was kind of proud they'd gotten to this point, now. He had _seen_ his boyfriend _naked_. And it was a _nice_ sight.

“Not too fast...?”

Ven shook his head and flashed a smile, but paused. They weren't going too fast for him, but that didn't actually clue him in to what the next step was. “... So, uh...”

The expression on his face was the same one he used to get back in his basic training days. A tiny, quizzical furrow of the brow, implying he'd forgotten the next stance or stick form. Terra stifled a laugh he didn't realize was coming until it made him smile, and he cautiously took the lead. One hand brushed up between Ven's legs and wrapped around his erection.

Ven twitched in surprise and moaned. Oh, _yeah_ , that made sense to do. “Terra...”

He thought of touching back, but for a second, he allowed himself to be caught up in this. Terra was stroking him gently, gaining confidence whenever Ven made it clear what he liked – Terra's thumb running up the underside was apparently the best thing to ever happen to him.

“God, you're hot...”

Flushed, Ven bit his lip and found his words. “I really like that – nn...”

“What... Like this...?” Repeating his experimental motion against the frenulum, Terra watched his blush deepen and his eyes shut tightly. His breathing hitched with a small whimper, and he was close again, Terra could tell.

“Yeah...” Ven breathed.

Wickedly, Terra started to stroke him fully – _properly_ – before he slowed down, teasing the head, just to watch him squirm.

“ _Mm_...” It wasn't quite protest. It might have been, but Ven's head had cleared enough to remember what he'd wanted from the beginning. One hand shakily found its way to Terra's erection, resting there more than feeling, but it was enough to catch his attention.

“Nngh...” Terra exhaled sharply, and pressed into his hand a little. He thought he shouldn't, though maybe he should guide it away... But Ven didn't want that. He didn't, either.

Eyes opening and going a little wide, Ven meticulously wrapped one finger around the shaft at a time. It was like he was trying to get the best feel for him he possibly could, and once he had, Ven tried to mimic his movements.

He'd always been a fast learner, too.

“Nn, _Ven_...” Terra groaned, trying not to get so distracted that his own hand fell away. Intense curiosity dispersed any lingering sense of modesty, and Ven glanced down to watch his hand – he was testing things out, angling his strokes and finding out what prompted different reactions.

Terra was the one on the brink, now. He was trying to hold it back and getting even louder in the process, every single breath audible with a hitch to interrupt it.

“Yeah -... God, Ven, like that, it's good...”

The sounds were shocking, like little jolts of heat coming in from all sides, because Ven was causing them and he didn't think he could handle that much longer. He writhed, rocked into Terra's hand, stroked him faster.

“I-I think I'm gonna...”

“ _Yeah_... Me, too...”

They were barely able to do more than buck into each other's hands and cuddle up close enough to grind. Ven practically mewled and Terra managed to watch him come undone, groaning loud with his own peak. Something like Ven's name escaped him, but who could tell amidst all the other noise and the _rush_ , the rush that overcame them both was all-encompassing.

Ven pressed his forehead to his chest, breathing hard, and continued to stroke him absentmindedly. His grip was loose and pleasant, but Terra nonetheless guided it away when sensitivity prickled at him. Their hands were a little sticky and that should have registered as unpleasant, but it was an easy transition to cuddling up to each other. Ven only wondered briefly where to put his sullied hand before it didn't matter.

“Love you...” Terra muttered. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” Ven replied brightly, nuzzling his chest a little. “That felt good.”

“Good... We can keep doing that stuff, if you want...” Relaxed, Terra smiled, and took one deep breath.

“Yeah, I think that's good,” Ven nodded in blissful agreement. “Did _you_ like it?”

Terra grinned. It seemed almost a silly question. “Yeah... A lot.”

Ven seemed contented by that answer and fully prepared to spend the rest of the evening nestling into his chest like a baby bird in something downy, but Terra was summoning all the mastery of language at his command. He wasn't troubled (as he thought he might be) but he didn't want the discussion to die while he still had the will to talk about it. Orgasm had dampened the fires of embarrassment.

And his thought-to-speech capabilities, but he didn't know that yet.

“Um, about 'further' than this...”

Raising his head, Ven's mind flitted towards some of the things Axel mentioned, but he quickly stamped that down. “Like... what? What are you thinking of?”

“Nothing...” he cleared his throat. “Which was kind of what I was getting at...”

Slowly, just to make sure he understood, Ven echoed, “You were getting at... nothing.”

“... I'm not making sense.”

Ven grinned. “Not really.”

“Heh...” Well, it wouldn't be a sex talk without making an idiot of himself. Terra actually tried thinking out his words. “What I meant was... Maybe we shouldn't go further until we know what we want to do. It'd be embarrassing, but maybe we could... research it? Together? So I know if you see something you like, and... what I might be ready for.”

He sincerely hoped that didn’t come off as suggesting he and Ven should just watch _porn_ together. The awkwardness would surely finish him off.

Listening, Ven nodded slowly. “I guess I wouldn't want to find out by doing something wrong...”

“I'm not even sure what we can _do_. Or what's okay.” He kissed Ven's forehead. “I'd never want to hurt you or do something... I dunno...”

Dirty.

“I know,” Ven reassured him. “Right now I like this... Just what we're doing.”

“Me, too.” He still felt heavy in a pleasant way, which was a large step up from being vaguely horrified and guilty.

“Doesn't mean I _never_ want to do more, but...”

“But we'll figure out what 'more' is good later,” Terra agreed. A small part of him screamed to know when 'later' was, but he didn't think Ven meant _soon_.

“Yeah. I'm not exactly going anywhere,” Ven hummed, content. Terra smiled.

“Except maybe to college. I'll have to chase you down, in that case.”

“Well, I wouldn't try to get away.”

“Makes it easier on me.” Affection bled through every word, and Ven tilted his head up to kiss him. They got kind of wrapped around each other while they were prolonging the afterglow, but it did eventually drift away and leave awareness of various discomforts.

Like sticky hands and – more importantly – Terra's stomach. He pulled away, paused, and asked, “Are you hungry?”

Ven looked suddenly sheepish. “I'm starving.”

“Me too,” Terra snickered, and began to sit up. “We should deal with that.”

Ven sat up, taking tissues when they were offered and cleaning himself up. He tossed them over to the trash can and stretched. “Can I borrow pants?”

“Sure, but they're gonna be big on you. Want a shirt?”

“Do I need one?”

“No.”

“Great!” Ven slid his feet off the bed and dropped them on the floor, accepting a pair of Terra's hakama. They were ridiculously long for his legs and he had to tie them tight at his waist, but he was pretty accustomed to excessive leg room. Terra was pulling on the loosest t-shirt he had with some pyjama pants, and as such Ven could only barely count his abs.

“I'm thinking... Chinese? A lot of it?”

“I think that's exactly what we need.” Ven smiled broadly, and spent the rest of the evening making a game out of trying to spot all of Terra's muscles through the shirt at a time. Now that he'd explored that torso shirtless, he had a pretty good idea what he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

Marluxia was only ever a friend in the right conditions. First and foremost, there had to be no one else available to hang out with. Second, and nearly as important, Axel had to be desperate for company.

He'd known Marluxia for a while (which was too long) and never found him pleasant, yet often inexplicably wound up in close enough proximity to him to justify socializing. They'd known many of the same people, regarded each other with a mutual cool, low-key loathing, and shared an inclination to verbally assassinate anyone and anything not to their taste. Marluxia had been one of the few people Axel had confided in when he'd discovered that Saix was cheating (simply because he'd had no one else), and his _stellar_ advice had been to cheat on him right back.

Another thing they had in common was a penchant for rough sex and a condescendingly denied attraction. Axel had almost considered picking up what Marluxia had put on the table, back then, but never did. As such, there was a weird aura of expectation around any time they spent together... or, perhaps, missed opportunity, and that was one of the best reasons ever not to seek out Marluxia for any kind of stress relief.

Still, Axel didn't actually have many friends, and certainly not ones from the _old days_. Demyx had only been a very casual acquaintance when he was dating Saix, and Marluxia was spiteful by nature. When he'd lost his old crowd, he'd held onto a total of two people, and school had drowned out every other part of his social life.

What was he gonna do, make friends with science nerds? Fuck that.

Would he ever accept that he, himself, was a science nerd? Double-fuck that. 'That' was getting double-penetrated, all night long.

So Demyx was off with Zexion, as per usual, and Roxas wasn't a viable option. He needed a night of heavy drinking, and that meant... Marluxia.

The bar was high-end, which was a pretty distinct line as to where they differed. Marluxia liked a touch of class, Axel preferred dives where the beer was cheap and the music was too loud. He wasn't sure how much more bang he was getting for his buck, here, but one thing was for sure: he was on his second beer, and not even buzzed.

He flagged the bartender for a third and leaned against the counter. Marluxia had abandoned him to his own devices (or vices) pretty much the second they walked through the door, and he was in no mood to converse with anyone else. He'd get his drink and return to the corner, where he could brood in relative peace.

Behind him, the regular patrons had all but parted for a pair just walking in. Axel took his drink and turned, watching a silver-haired man – maybe middle-aged, at most – steering a teenager with coppery hair over to the largest central booth. It hadn't been open a moment ago. The former occupants were actually still in the process of scurrying away with their drinks, and no one was giving either guy any trouble even though the teenager was _clearly teenage_.

The underage redhead took a seat as he was directed, and could be seen by pretty much anyone in the bar who thought to look their way. There was a weird expression on his face – not disinterested, nor complacent, but some mix of both. It changed ever so subtly when the man leaned in close to him and murmured something in his ear – receptive, he was attentive now – as a tray of drinks were hand-delivered to their table. He smiled, just a little, and nodded.

Then he took the drink being handed to him and started knocking it back swallow after swallow. The older man picked up a glass, sipping it very slowly, and watched the boy drink.

Axel arched an eyebrow, commenting under his breath, “Huh. Little creepy.”

Or a lot creepy. They were aware that was illegal, right? ... The _bouncers_ were aware? The bar staff?

But no one was saying or doing anything, and it gave Axel the surreal sense that they were all in on some joke that he wasn't. So, maybe the younger guy just _looked_ underage. He didn't know how regularly he might drink, but it was pretty evident from where Axel was standing that he was fighting a cringe when he set down the empty glass.

Axel began to slink away from the bar, determinedly trying to file that under 'not his business', when he heard the boy say a name.

The bar was at a dull roar and Axel had only been... sort of nearby. It was possible he _hadn't_ called the guy Ansem.

Axel watched Ansem run a hand through rusty orange hair, practically petting him, and slide the boy another glass. He leaned in close, muttering against his ear again, and the teenager nodded. Taking the drink, he stood up and slid out of the rounded booth, and although many eyes followed him no one dared approach.

Ansem settled back, and smirked.

The table nearest to Axel was given the gift of a free beer. It was set down carelessly on his way to the booth, and Axel unceremoniously dropped onto the very end of the padded bench.

“Hey. That guy called you Ansem?”

This wasn't smart. Either he was wrong and this was a stranger, or it was actually him. For a moment, Ansem stared imperiously, taking in the amount of gall shown by a complete stranger.

“Who do you think you are?” was the unhelpful reply, but Axel called that as good as a confirmation. There probably would've been a degree of confusion, otherwise.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and the measure had just been... dropped into his lap. Or walked into this bar. Hell, Axel _was_ desperate, he'd called _Marluxia_. And this... This seemed unreal. Karma, fate, something else that was often unpleasant.

“Someone who'd literally pay you if you can tell me what happened between you and a guy named Roxas,” Axel drawled, attempting to carry off Ansem's brand of confidence but not managing anything like it.

“Roxas?” Ansem spoke the name delicately, like it was a flavor he was reacquainting himself with, and arched an eyebrow. “I see... you're one of _those_.”

“Skip it, would you?” Axel almost sighed. He wasn't in the mood for the veiled, derisive amusement. Normally, he got such a kick out of it, but there was a time and a place. “I just need to know.”

“I'm rather occupied at the moment. I can have you removed with the barest gesture.”

Unabashedly – beyond pride and a little more intoxicated than he'd thought – Axel plowed on, “I'll draw up the paperwork for a goddamn restraining order keeping me fifty feet away from you, if you just tell me what happened with him. If money's seriously not your thing, I'll do something else.”

Perhaps impressed by just _how_ desperate Axel was, Ansem raised his eyebrows and surveyed him. His motives inscrutable, he finally came to a decision and exhaled in faint irritability. “Since you seem to know who I am, you must already know the nature of our relationship.”

“I know you two were together, and that's about the extent of it.” He wouldn't mention Xigbar or what he learned from him, unless he had to.

With the barest nod, Ansem's expression took on a faintly nostalgic glow. “Roxas... He was almost perfect. Finding a suitable replacement for him has been... disappointing.”

His eyes hadn't left the teenager he came in with. Axel kept composed.

“Perfect for what?”

“Perfectly trainable.”

He spoke without hesitation, or remorse. The gears in Axel's head ground to a horrified halt, and the idea that this had been a mistake wriggled in through his ear and gnawed on his brain.

“... What were you training him to be?” Please say gymnast. “Just obedient, or was there more to it than that?”

Now Ansem seemed suspicious. “... None of this will help you. I hear he's become quite the brazen tramp.”

“I need to know.”

Lip curling in an entertained sneer, Ansem scoffed, “Don't tell me you're in _love_ with him.”

This was definitely the last man he wanted to admit that to, but a flat 'no' could easily be dismissed. Rolling his eyes, he asked, “If I say I'm head over heels for him, will you just answer the question?”

“Training him to be mine, of course,” Ansem smirked.

“... That has to entail more,” Axel persisted. He'd gone this far, and now... Not just for Roxas, for that copper-haired boy and _others_ , he wanted to know. “What's 'yours', obedient? Subservient? What did you _do_ to him?”

“What did I do to him?” he repeated, mockingly, and laughed. “I never laid a finger on him.”

Axel's eyes narrowed, not sure he trusted that. “... Even when he wanted you to?”

“He was in no way ready,” Ansem waved a hand. “He had potential, though. Such potential.”

“Ready by _your_ standards,” Axel muttered under his breath, then scowled. “So, if I have this straight... You neglected him unless he fell in line with whatever you wanted him to do, and ended it when he wouldn't cooperate.”

“Neglected? Never.” Ansem sipped from his glass, uncomfortably nonchalant. “He was precious to me. As I said, he was almost perfect. I liked his fire... Though I suppose there was a little too much of it, in the end.”

“But you never fucked him,” Axel said bluntly. “Did you do _anything_ with him, when it wasn't in public?”

“Oh, so much more refined than that. But I must confess, I'm surprised he told you about me.”

“He didn't,” Axel didn't even blink. “Refined in what way?”

Delicately, as though imparting wisdom Axel really ought to already know, Ansem replied, “I gave him... positive reinforcement.”

For a second, Axel wasn't sure if he was about to laugh or not. He favored 'not', because there was nothing funny about any of it. Despite now hating Ansem more than he'd ever hated anyone in his life, Axel didn't show it. “Literal training,” he mused. “Like a dog.”

“If I wanted to train an animal to do tricks, I simply would have an animal. A boy is much more complex... And can learn so much more.”

The word 'boy' made Axel's skin crawl. He leaned against the table. “Guessing that's why you like 'em young. You're not going to get to the 'how' part of the story, are you?”

“I think I've told you more than enough already.” Ansem caught Neku's eye across the bar and beckoned subtly. Immediately, he was making his way back, and didn't interact with a single person on the way.

Taking his cue, Axel got to his feet. “... All good to know.”

He wondered if he should call the police. Then he wondered if there was a point. Ansem hadn't told him anything that'd constitute as evidence... and no matter how young his companions were, Axel seriously doubted they were ever young enough to get Ansem put in jail.

It was disgusting, but Axel had no idea if it was _criminal_.

Neku slid past Axel as though he wasn't even there, and Ansem gave him nothing more than an acknowledging nod.

“In any case, it won't make a difference for you,” Ansem commented, vaguely disdainful again. “I know his reputation far better than anyone. He's tasted too much freedom, now.”

“I'm not interested in taking his freedom,” Axel shrugged one shoulder stiffly, zipped his jacket, and walked out of the bar.

He'd text Marluxia later. Or maybe he wouldn't.

He wanted to call Roxas, but he didn't think there was a point while he was still... in whatever state he was in. Axel wasn't _drunk_ , but his head was definitely swimming. That could only be partially blamed on the alcohol.

Fuck, it was no wonder Roxas was so wary. Axel hadn't thought of his relationship with Saix as abusive until six months after it had ended, and he'd still walked away with scars to show for it. The scars, he'd consented to, but the emotional blackmail... If he were younger, dating an older man, maybe wondering if something was fundamentally wrong with him because he hadn't fallen in love?

That was certain; Roxas hadn't loved him. Roxas _couldn't_ feel love like that, and Axel wondered if Ansem had used that against him. Made him fear what love was, because Roxas didn't have first-hand experience with it and never would. He wondered if Ansem had tried to change that about him, control every facet, even the ones outside Roxas's own reach.

Axel wondered if, in trying to understand, he'd tried to manipulate Roxas too.

He realized he'd fucked up. And fucked up big.

The ways Roxas's past had shaped him, the ways that it hadn't... Axel wasn't supposed to figure it out. Roxas was who he was, with present reasons for wanting things and not wanting others, and hearing him out should have been enough. He couldn't find an answer to their issues in a bunch of stuff that'd happened a year ago, or more.

Oh, hey, over a year ago... _Now_ it dawned on him why he'd never heard of the 'Blonde Cookie'. He'd still been with Saix, then, and god forbid he talk to any member of the sexual male community without inspiring ferocious jealousy. After that, as Axel had noted... He'd only really had Demyx and Marluxia.

Regardless...

If anything had come of this, Axel reflected, it was that he at least wasn't so bothered by the idea of Roxas sleeping around while they were whatever-they-were. If _that_ was freedom, he fully endorsed it, with a healthy bitter dose of _fuck that guy_ enclosed with his support. If it meant spiting Ansem, he'd happily watch Roxas partake in a group orgy.

Actually... Not at all an unappealing image. But then, the sexual aspect itself had never been the issue.

And _now_ he wanted to try sexting Roxas, instead, but he was still too pissed off to make it work.

He couldn't hide this. That he'd found out _things_ , about Roxas. Axel didn't really want to be that person again, anyway, the one digging up dirt and stowing it within his own pile of shit.

They needed to talk. Not in circles, this time. No more _trying to get it_ , and no more trying to get to the root of things to proclaim, 'See! I'm not like that!' He'd tell Roxas that he talked to Ansem.

If he was still willing to talk after that... Then, good.

And, if not...

... He didn't want Roxas's only memories about him to be bitter and angry. Maybe he could do something about that. 


	22. Inappropriate Use of Motorcycles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally... The chapter that begged the use of the tag.

Riding with Roxas in front was, technically, _very_ illegal and wouldn't (shouldn't) ever be repeated. Axel was pretty much guiding him through driving, more than he was _actually driving_. Roxas had a learner's permit and some pretty solid knowledge in the handling of a four-wheeled vehicle, though, so they figured they had a few loopholes to shamelessly explain away and exploit if they were pulled over.

And it was a _miracle_ they weren't pulled over.

They'd taken the long route, which was conveniently less crowded and had them cruising at a speed limit favored by senior citizens. There had been nothing but endless opportunity to press against Roxas's backside, particularly as they idled at a red light, and the signals had been loud and clear. Turn signals, not so much, but _Axel's_ signals.

He had a clear intention in mind, but had only hinted at it when texting earlier. The conversation had been as such:

_[Nosy Asshole. 5:36 PM]: 'You know what our problem was, last time we hung out?'_

_[Nosy Asshole. 5:36 PM]: 'Video games.'_

_[Blonde Cookie. 5:39 PM]: 'Interesting theory. What’s your solution?'_

_[Nosy Asshole. 5:40 PM]: 'A change in activity and venue.'_

... Which Roxas was _pretty sure_ meant sex.

But they both knew what had changed, and – more importantly, what hadn't – and Axel's stance on it was tenuous at best. He could _claim_ to be working on things, getting over his jealousies and hurts, but Roxas didn't actually know how honest that was. And after the ugly awkwardness...

The cycle seemed bound to continue. They'd hang out, holding onto fragile hope that this could be something approaching casual, and then they'd talk. And they'd tense up. They'd debate, maybe argue, and by the time things had cooled down they'd have cooled _way_ down.

But there was so much _heat_ at the moment that Roxas had forgotten what it felt like to have a bucket of unpleasant memories dumped over his head. Axel was _warm_ and close, clad in leather, and the bike was rumbling between his legs. They'd formed an elite team of factors designed to spin Roxas's head up to a dizzying high, which was _not_ a good state to be driving in.

He didn't want it to end, though, so he leaned forward heavily on the bike and enjoyed being loomed over. Axel's gloved hands were practically over his, except when they were tight on his hips.

Leather-covered fingers spread out against his pelvis and pressed. Roxas's breath caught loudly enough to be heard over the bike's muted roar, and he tried to grind back on him. He was _unbearably_ turned on, so if sex wasn't on the agenda, Axel's plans had better be flexible.

The light flicked over to green, and Axel steered them into taking the turn wide. They were honked at, but they were so close to the parking garage now that there wasn't going to be an opportunity to practice better defensive driving. They slowed but never stopped on the slope into the apartment building's underground, and Axel made no move to turn off the engine when he parked. It wasn't until he'd removed his helmet and set up the parking stand that Roxas realized they'd actually _stopped_.

Curious, he removed his own helmet and looked over his shoulder, face too hot and legs too shaky. Axel climbed back on with the helmets left haphazardly on the ground, starting to kiss along his neck and jaw from behind.

“Ngh -”

He definitely hadn't been expecting that. He kept his voice low as Axel rocked against his ass, but it still echoed through their tucked-away section of the parking garage. “ _Fuck_ , Axel, what are you doing?”

“Unleashing the inner exhibitionist?” His voice was rough as he pressed his lips to Roxas's ear, and he nipped the shell. “Unless you don't want to.”

“Want to?” he echoed, disbelieving, and tilted his head back against Axel's shoulder. This was rocketing towards orgasms at the speed of sound, and Axel thought he might _decline._ “I wanted to since the first time I saw this bike.”

And even if he hadn't, he was utterly weak to the suggestion when Axel _said_ it like that. He was deeply intrigued, not sure how far this was actually about to go, but previous experience had taught him that Axel _delivered_ on his bullshit any time he thought he'd get away with it.

Smirking, Axel kept his voice low and rolled one word into the other. “Pervert. Wanting to defile my pure virgin bike.”

God damn he was oversensitive and it was on _purpose_. Axel's hands roved over his thighs and teased between his legs, melting Roxas with practiced ease. He'd geared every aspect of this, but Roxas didn't have enough presence of mind left to suspect that.

“Virgin?” It could have been a laugh, or the bike shaking his voice. “Well, it's my first threesome with a running vehicle, too.”

“Be gentle.” With another soft bite, Axel unzipped Roxas's jacket and undid his jeans.

“I think it can take – _ah_ -”

Roxas's groan interrupted their banter. He could feel the vibration of the bike through Axel's hands, and was trying to shrug off the jacket. It could go on the cold ground, for the time being. He didn't need it.

Apparently, Axel didn't think he needed his jeans, either.

He manipulated Roxas's leg over the side, slid off and worked the jeans down his hips. There'd be no explaining themselves away if they were caught, but the increase in sensation was drastic without a barrier of denim.

“You never know, I guess,” Axel was saying, the rough glide of his clothing being pulled down his legs making him prickle, the incessant vibration of the leather seat shaking him up and making him hurt and buzz and want. “Maybe the bike likes it rough. Wants to be pounded so hard it feels it for days.”

“It is _your_ bike...” The comeback was completely halfhearted. He was hardly listening to himself, trying to cooperate with Axel undressing him.

“You implying I'm a bad influence?”

Yeah, there _was_ no comeback for that one. Not when Axel was wrapping his hand around his hot, aching cock, squeezing lightly while he fished around in his back pocket for lube. He teased, just a little – no friction, not like this, he wouldn't dare.

He wasn't stroked properly until Axel had slicked his palm with the stuff and gotten on the bike behind him, again.

“Mm...” Roxas braced himself against Axel's legs and let the seat buck his hips on his behalf. He wasn't being stroked off, not in any way he'd ever been before. The grip was loose, not _too_ loose, and so wonderfully and easily slick, and the constant motion under him was making him gyrate, rut into the wonderful hand as if it were a toy and he had any semblance of control. Axel's hand _was_ moving, but he let the bike do the most work.

“You are-... You planned this,” he managed to work his lips around a gasp and turn them into words.

“Little bit,” Axel confessed shamelessly. “Know you have a thing for the bike, and I promised you a _ride_ ages ago...”

He was working his fingers around the head, letting it push up against the minimal resistance while he provided just enough to make it feel like _fucking_. Roxas pressed down into the bike, tried to find Axel's crotch to rub against, wanted to do _something_ besides lie back and take it because the temptation to do just that was incredible.

“Nngh-... Looks like you know... Just about all my 'things'...”

“Got to memorize what gets you hottest,” Axel breathed, burying his lips against his throat again. His hand was working halfway down the shaft with every cant, making it _more_. “Makes you moan the loudest... Gets you to make the sexiest face, when you come... You're so hot like this, Rox...”

Fuck, he was practically writhing in Axel's arms, his purr becoming pure heat inside Roxas's body and out – his breath caught in his throat, and he needed to do _something_ , this could satisfy him but he didn't _want_ it to.

They could do more. He badly wanted _more_.

This was going to wind up being a quickie. Roxas's body was being played, and his kinks were the cheat codes.

“Fucking hell, Ax,” he groaned, shifting forward to cling to the bike in the most inviting position available. It was almost a mistake; if he sank too much weight into the seat, Roxas ran the risk of crushing some very sensitive equipment and Axel's insurance didn't cover that.

But as it was, the vibration was an aching _tease_ , and his ass was almost offered. Axel palmed him and purred.

“How do you want this?”

He was barely comprehensible. “Want you... inside... hard and, vibrating-...”

Roxas's back arched, and he tried to press closer to the seat, hips sweeping along the hard leather and despite all he'd said he could've rubbed himself off against it. Easily.

A condom was pressed into his hand and Axel was coaxing him up. “Get up, going to turn you around...”

“Nngh...” As much as he wanted to protest, being fucked like this was liable to get painful in the not-good way. He struggled to stand, already so marvelously _sore_ throughout, and closed his fingers tightly around the plastic package. Axel guided him every step of the way, bodily positioning him back against the handlebars with a quick check to make sure the gears were locked. Roxas's legs were spread out far and Axel straddled the bike with him briefly, long enough to take a fistful of blonde hair and kiss him deeply. Then he was on his feet, deftly undoing the fly of his leather pants and poised to fuck him standing.

In the vaguest way possible, Roxas was nervous about his feet not touching the ground. The sex that was about to happen took some serious precedence, though, and he contented himself against the dash once he'd shifted around a little. Nothing else digging into his back and a steady vibe kneading his ass; yeah, he was good with this position.

“Want me to prep you?”

“Depends,” Roxas's groan was light with breath. “If you're okay with me coming before you get a chance.”

With a low laugh, Axel took the condom back to tear the wrapper and leaned over him. “Could get off on the way you come, alone. Blushing and arching, shivering, and you're just loud enough, you have no idea...”

That really should have been embarrassing. Not the words, so much – he'd said more colorful things before – but the fact that Axel had made his cock twitch by speaking alone. His head tilted back, quieting a little moan. Axel watched him, intent, and almost put the condom on wrong in the smoothest maneuver to ever go unnoticed. He rolled it over his erection on the second try and made sure his fingers were wet enough.

He worked two inside, familiar with the _give_ to the muscle, the willingness of Roxas's body.

“I need to record your moans, fuck, listen to 'em all the time... But I'd spend way too much time hard... Wouldn't be able to do anything but fuck you, nothing else'd seem important...”

Dizzy, Roxas arched up frantically with a sharp inhale. He groaned Axel's name without restraint when he scissored his fingers, appreciating that he was doing this _fast_ almost as much as the occasional firm press against his prostate.

“You're perfect, Rox, you were built for this and you know it, you flaunt it, everything you are and do and _fuck_... I always want you...”

Axel was just _talking_ , filter broken down and inclined to keep going as long as he wasn't gagged. And that suited Roxas just perfectly, _hearing_ without thinking too much on any one word, rolling his hips up in wordless plea because they'd failed him. They'd all gotten lost in his brain, whereas Axel's words were spilling out like they'd simultaneously stampeded towards the exit.

He wasn't patient enough for a thorough preparation and Axel could feel that he didn't really need it. Oddly enough, he didn't mind, much less give it a second thought. There was a third finger, a little more stretching just to make sure.

“Ready for me...?”

“Always,” Roxas almost growled, arms up and wound around the handlebars to keep himself on board. Axel had the rest of him, taking hold of his hips and grounding him against the narrow, vibrating surface. He had him steadied, even as the engine continued to make it difficult, and the thrust inside was impressively smooth.

And _amazing_.

He could feel the vibration all through him. Roxas could feel it intensely from the inside, and even though he knew he was the one shaking, it felt like Axel had suddenly developed speed settings. The tease of vibration had transcended into something so much more satisfying. Axel was _warm_ and his body so much more forgiving than a toy but _god_ , Roxas was melting. He heard himself swear, both loudly and impressively, but forgot about it within an instant. Forgot pretty much everything apart from how perfectly Axel fit inside him and against him, and the accompanying hum through his nerves.

In him to the hilt, Axel went still and fought to pull himself together. Roxas’s knees pressed in on his sides the same way he clamped them to the bike to stay on, giving Axel the impression that _he_ was the one being ridden, and goddamn was he ever alright with that. This felt... He didn't even have a frame of reference, but it took everything he had not to just spill into him.

Deep breaths. Ignore Roxas's panting, and delirious whimpers.

Thrusts shallow enough to keep himself inside, Axel's groans hitched with the ebb and flow. “Fuck, I didn't think you could _get_ any tighter...”

“Ax-...” He was twitching and quivering, orgasm building fast but _yes_ , that was what he wanted. He wanted to be even higher. He was so hot and so good and if he just kept talking...

Hitching his shirt up with his dry hand, Axel ran his nails up his torso and let everything crossing his mind roll out over his tongue. “I don't want to ever stop this, fucking you and being with you, _god_ Rox, you're so perfectly tight and the way you _move_ is-... like you were made for me and I want to spend every fucking second-... God damn...”

Blush burning, Roxas started meeting his thrusts to make them _harder_ , entire body afire and drugged on dirty talk.

“It's not just how you feel inside, it's everything... The way you look and sound and taste, holy shit, the way you taste is addictive... Kissing you and sucking you off... I want to lick you but I'm not gonna, I'm not even gonna touch more than this, I want you to come for me. Just from me pounding into you and talking to you, with the bike vibrating and your voice all shaky...”

Eyes clouded, perfectly overstimulated, Roxas's voice trembled in time with the engine. It was hard to tell if Roxas was echoing him, mumbling nonsense, or repeating his name, but eventually he managed, “S'like... having my own... p-personal human vibrator... Th-th's new...”

Axel's laugh was sharp, groan louder. “Just what I was hoping for... God _damn,_ Roxas, I could spend forever praising your ass, you're so fucking good -”

“ _Ahh!_ Fuck... Ax _el_ -...” Roxas arched abruptly, crying out with the surge that rocked him and it was too much, whatever had been keeping him together had snapped. It _hurt_ but _so good_ because it was in every single singing nerve, orgasm electrifying him and bursting hard between them, over the leather seat, staining Axel's clothes.

Thank god for that, because he hadn't been able to last another minute. Axel was seconds behind, shuddering and going still with his hips flush to Roxas's ass.

“ _Fu-uck_ , Roxas, _yes_...”

Pleasure had never been so _violent_ , but it was like a good dom in that it didn't break either of them and left such a satisfying swell of exhaustion that Roxas couldn't distinguish afterglow from his peak for several long moments. As shaky as Axel's legs were, he had enough willpower to reach over and shut off the engine at last before pulling out of Roxas and sinking onto the motorcycle with him.

This was going to get uncomfortable fast, in the way aching bodies _didn't_ like. But that was fine. They needed a second, and if Axel hadn't sat down, he wouldn't have been able to haul Roxas against him. Which, as it turned out, was extremely necessary, because Roxas was in danger of slipping off the bike.

Leaning heavily into Axel, Roxas closed his eyes and let his body slow down on its own time. He thought he could still feel movement in his very blood, or at least hear it ringing in his ears. If it hadn't been so awesome, it might've been annoying.

 _Wow_ , though.

“... We should probably clean ourselves up,” Axel murmured lazily, a touch of hoarseness in his throat. He was still buzzing and reluctant to do anything to break the thick, warm atmosphere between them... but the parking garage was actually pretty cold, and Roxas was bound to notice it once he remembered how temperature worked. “An' pants. You should have pants. And _painkillers_. Bet you'll feel that soon...”

With a distant sound of acknowledgment, Roxas started to grin. “Yeah, I should get those before feeling comes back.”

Tying off the condom with as much dexterity as an intoxicated primate, Axel tossed it over at a neighbor's Prius – whatever, the owner had one of those really passive-aggressive stickers pasted on the bumper, who even did that? - and dipped down for Roxas's jeans.

“You don't have to keep the pants on upstairs, either,” he offered, with surprisingly little ulterior motive. In Roxas's position, he sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to wear them. He'd be _tender_.

“Sold.” Taking the jeans, Roxas sluggishly unwound from the bike to put them back on, wriggling awkwardly into denim prison and seeking out his coat. It was all quite a process, as the ground still seemed to be trembling a little under him. While he dressed, Axel tried to clean off the bike as best he could, at the expense of his already soiled shirt.

Step one, complete. Fuck Roxas completely senseless. If he hadn't done such a thorough job of it, he would have launched right into step two, but it wasn't smart to do it down here and right now. He'd wait until Roxas had been taken care of a little, revising his 'step two' to incorporate some aftercare.

Unsteadily, Roxas managed to get himself decent and even pull his coat over his shoulders. Axel zipped himself up, so late in the game that'd he'd obviously nearly forgotten to and risked flashing the elevator's security camera.

“Want me to carry you like a fireman?”

“Nah... it'd be a bitch to get in the elevator.”

“Damn, you're right. Want an arm, instead?”

“How dashing. I'm going to swoon.” Roxas took it anyway out of necessity. He kind of needed the support to make his legs work.

Axel debated on their way to the elevator, trying to come to a rational decision as to what the 'least asshole-ish' thing to do was. It was when they were approaching the door and Axel was fumbling to scan the fob that he decided he owed Roxas _something_ before they were upstairs.

“... You should know, before we get there and you're relatively comfortable... I've got something to tell you. And if you're pissed, you can kick me out of my own apartment, 'til you're up to heading home. I'll pay for your cab.”

That sure was a way to make Roxas immediately wary, but he couldn't work up the energy to tense yet. Eyeing him, he considered before venturing, “... Better just tell me.”

“... Okay, uh...” Axel was briefly distracted by the 'beep' and click of the door unlocking, and he opened it to lead them towards the elevator.

Time to bite the bullet.

“I talked to Ansem.” He didn’t allow the words to have their full effect before adding on, “I didn't go looking for him, or anything. Just same place, same time.”

Roxas's lips pulled down into a scowl, but there was little other visible reaction. Inside, he felt like something had been given a hard shake, and it wasn't nearly as nice as the way the motorcycle had quivered. “... He actually spoke to you?”

“Yeah. He threatened to have me thrown out, but he talked anyway,” Axel rolled his eyes, demonstratively unimpressed, and Roxas said nothing.

Everything was running at half-speed, but panic had been given a boost. Sluggish to start, it wound up and started building momentum until it'd coiled into a knot of dread that sank into his stomach.

“... For the record, I know I shouldn't have.” The quiet had gone on too long, and Axel needed to fill it. To explain, even if an explanation wouldn't repair what had been done. “I just... I'm used to doing things my way. Figuring out what I need to know... I thought it'd be better if you never had to talk about it and I still got a first-hand account.”

Roxas's hands clenched. “... What did he say?”

Pressing the button for the elevator, Axel responded very evenly. “Mentioned that he couldn't train you. Was generally creepy, said you two never had sex... Couldn't have made it clearer he was trying to groom you.”

“Hm.” His eyes remained fixedly on what Axel’s hands were doing, rather than his face.

“... It's good on you. To do... To be whatever makes you feel like you're your own person. I think I get it.”

The elevator doors opened. Roxas, still leaning on Axel, let him lead the way into the elevator. The button for his floor was pressed.

“... I know what you think this is.” He knew, and he wouldn't have it.

He’d known this was coming, one way or another, since Axel had first called him ‘damaged’ in this same elevator. All Axel had needed was a scapegoat to foist some vague cause-and-effect psychology on, and Ansem was a Holy Grail as far as that was concerned.

Roxas could predict how this would go. Axel thought he’d located Roxas’s dark and tragic past, and he’d use it to explain away as many of his unappealing behaviours as he could link together. And by the miraculous event of Axel explaining to him, Roxas would realize all of his wrong-doings were simply a defense mechanism - one he’d promptly abandon as soon as he came to realise Axel was _different_.

Because, of course, how could someone be like him without being badly hurt? How could he be aware of it until someone pointed it out? And what better way to change him than someone coming along to show him they’d treat him right.

It was bad enough to have Sora think all that of him, and probably Ven, too, though he kept quiet about it. Roxas knew what it came down to in their minds. All he needed was to be ‘healed’ of his past, and then he’d be happily, genuinely, just like them. Poor Roxas, doesn’t even know he’s hurting himself.

God, he hated it. From Axel, he wouldn’t tolerate it.

“What is it? Actually?”

If Axel looked at him with sympathy, called him 'strong' or 'brave' or used any of the words people liked to use when they were avoiding calling someone a victim, he'd take him up on the taxi. If Axel had snooped around and _decided_ that Roxas's past made him fragile, he'd never speak to him again.

“I'm not just... hurt. I'm not some broken thing.”

“I never thought that,” Axel said instantly. “I'm not trying to 'fix' you.”

“Aren't you?” He’d meant it as more of an accusation than a question, but it came out sounding like an even mix of both.

“Fuck no. I just wanted to understand.” He glanced away, and it was with a grain of shame that he went on. “... Maybe I thought that, early on. When I didn't really know you. I don't want to change you, at all.”

Roxas frowned deeply. “But you still think Ansem _made_ me like this.”

“No more than my ex made me like _this_. He didn't make you anything, he just...” Axel trailed off, shrugging in a helpless kind of way. “He fucked up your impression of what love's supposed to be like.”

The elevator doors opened. Sighing, Roxas followed him out, and Axel held out his keys.

“... Am I still welcome in my apartment?”

“I'm not that mad.” To his own surprise, he really wasn't. Roxas was tired, and guarded, but he couldn't work his way up to angry. He wasn't yet sure what his response _should_ be, but he wasn't going to be hasty about it.

“... Great,” Axel murmured, for lack of any better way to express both mild surprise and gratitude, and went to unlock the door. Roxas stepped out of his shoes and dropped his coat in the doorway.

“I'm never standing again now. Cool?”

“Couch? Bed? Patch of floor?”

“Couch. Bed is _far_.”

“At your command,” Axel spoke with a degree of formality, shedding his own jacket and shoes before helping him over to the couch. He called out, “Dem?” just he check whether or not he was home, and was met with no reply.

Roxas sank back onto the couch with a wince. His body was definitely feeling the abuse he'd just happily put it through.

“You should have water and Advil.”

Both hands lifted and made a grabbing motion.

“M'on it,” Axel announced, and went to retrieve the promised boons. Strength flowed out of Roxas's arms and his hands dropped back down to the couch, sinking sideways to avoid resting his weight anywhere particularly pained. He tried not to think.

Axel came back in short order with the offered drugs and drink. “Allow me to take your pants.”

He was back to the butler voice. Roxas shifted again to allow it.

“What service.”

“I aim to please.” Carefully, he undid the fly and shimmied the jeans down. It took twice as long as it might have in any other situation, what with all the wincing and conscientious maneuvering, but Roxas did feel better for it. He popped the pills, drank half the glass of water in one go, and sighed in relief when his pants had been worked over his ankles. The socks went with them, but everyone present could survive the shock of a bare ankle after sex in a public forum.

“Once you're up to it, I'll kiss it better.” Axel paused. “If that's still a thing we do.”

“... What?”

“I wasn't sure if this was going to be... You know. The end.”

A flash of annoyance made waves in his indecision. “So, was that all to get me in a good mood, then?”

“More to make it memorable.”

“Ah...” Actually... that fit. Roxas tilted his gaze down at Axel, _one_ part of his mind already made up. “... I'm not ditching you.”

Glancing up, Axel exhaled and dropped the jeans. “That's pretty sweet. For the record... I _know_ all the 'trying to figure out out' stuff wasn't okay. And if you can't trust me, I get that.”

“'Least you can learn...”

Late, and Roxas would wait to see evidence that it'd sunk in. But it was nice to hear.

“... I think if I never knew, though, we'd never be anything but... Confused,” Axel leaned against the couch. “And usually frustrated.”

That still rubbed him the wrong way, a little. “I know-... Ugh, there's no way to say this that isn't lame. I know what love's 'supposed' to be like.”

If nothing else, he had to set that straight. Partly because he couldn’t allow any notion that this part of him could be ‘solved’, but mostly because it was plain fucking insulting.

“... Then why does it freak you out so bad?”

“It's _being_ in love I don't understand. I don't know what it feels like or how I'd know if I did,” Roxas looked to the ceiling. “And I know what it sounds like, but that was the case _before_ Ansem, too. That was never about love, or even dating...”

Axel nodded slowly. “He didn't make you that way, I get it.”

Roxas exhaled, tried to gather his thoughts and explain. “With other guys... there's never anything stopping me. I can get away whenever I need to...”

“Though you're still taking a risk.” It was coming out, no matter how inappropriate for the current mood. “They might be terrible in bed.”

Roxas raised an eyebrow in answer.

“Someone had to say it.”

With a soft snort, he continued. “Someone loving me, though... That should be even easier to leave. I mean, there's always going to be something I can't give them.”

“... Not a _necessary_ thing, though...”

“Not _now_ , maybe.”

Axel shook his head. “You've _told_ me you care... I still have trouble with that one, 'cause as far as I was concerned, that just made me any other friend, to you. But I don't need you to be in love with me when you _can't_ , that's just not you.”

Apart from a little nervous drumming of his fingers, Roxas was quiet.

“... I dunno, maybe that's what it comes down to? I can't be happy being part of your life that's replaceable,” Axel said aloud as the thought came to him. “I never wanted to be indistinguishable from your other friends. _Definitely_ didn't want to be just another one of the guys you had sex with.”

“Still weird at all to have someone who fits in both...” he mumbled weakly.

“And that means something,” Axel sighed. “Was just too dumb to see that, before.”

“You've always been kind of dumb. Most of the time, I like it.”

Axel snorted. Roxas smiled, but it faded as quickly as it'd appeared.

“... I think I'll still run in the end.”

“... Well... If you run, feel free to come running back with tales of woe and fuzzy handcuffs.”

Roxas could have stared, but he wasn't honestly that surprised. “You're ridiculous. You know that?”

“Part of my charm. It offsets my raw sex appeal.”

“Sounds like you're making a sales pitch.”

“I could be yours for a low monthly payment,” Axel purred, and was shoved. “Ow – I haven't told you about all the features I come with. You've recently sampled my new vibrate setting...”

Roxas grinned and pushed him again. “Where's the stop function?”

“I disabled that.”

“This one's defective. Can I send it back?”

“You break it, you bought it,” Axel protested, and started to pull off the stained shirt that was becoming very unpleasant to wear. “I could have a bruise.”

“Damn your voided warranty.”

Getting up, Axel started to remove his no-longer-comfortable pants, reluctantly sobering. “We got a bit off-topic.”

“Is this on-topic?” Roxas watched him strip. “I'd like to be on this topic.”

He smirked. “Aren't you recovering?”

“I could-...” Starting to argue, Roxas paused and took stock of how many functions he could probably perform in his current state, then sighed as though he'd been told they'd discontinued sea-salt ice cream indefinitely. “Yeah.”

“Raincheck.” Collapsing onto the couch beside him, Axel threw his pants clear across the room. Roxas sat up a little and clapped politely.

“Thank you.” Axel sank back heavily. “... So... Are you running right _now?_ ”

“I think you and your bike fucked the ability right out of me,” Roxas glanced at him. “But seriously, Axel... Can we be friends again for a while? Without all the weird tension and sneaking around?”

That sounded like the best and most natural thing in the world. “... I think that'd be good, yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay with that?” Roxas hesitated. “ _All_ of that?”

They both knew he was talking about the conga line of conquests Roxas would continuously add to.

“I'm learning to be,” Axel answered honestly. “It's still gonna hurt, sometimes. Just... feeling like I'm... nothing, I guess. I know that's not what's going on, though,” he looked his way, reassuring him. “Just got to re-learn that.”

Something squirmed uncomfortably inside Roxas's chest, and he thought about asking. He was never sure he should, and even less sure he wanted to... and it wasn't like he was _oblivious_. Axel had mentioned his cheating ex.

But he still didn't know how far that hurt extended, and he didn't think he should.

“... It's not exactly a popularity contest. If you make the offer, I'd come to you first.”

Axel grinned. “Because I've got all your kinks figured.”

“That's a perk.”

“Got you addicted to the dick. All part of my plan,” Axel mock-boasted, putting his feet up on the table.

Somehow, Roxas failed to sound sufficiently impressed, and almost seemed _sarcastic_ when he intoned, “Your evil genius is staggering.”

“Actually staggering. You can barely walk,” Axel properly boasted this time.

“Also a perk,” Roxas admitted, letting him have that one. “You have no idea how hard it is, finding guys who can do that to me.”

Rather smug, Axel stretched out. “That _was_ pretty awesome. We'll have to do that again. Warmer weather would be nice.”

“ _Yeah_. Maybe not in the parking garage next time. Don't want to get us arrested.”

“I can't afford bail, yeah...”

“It'd still be worth it,” Roxas declared, and reached for the glass to drink the rest of his water.

Axel laughed. “I'd _make_ it worth it.”

“Your addiction tactic must be working,” he quirked an eyebrow and met his eyes. “Now I'm thinking I can still blow you in my recovering state.”

Mightily tempted, Axel bit his lip briefly and glanced Roxas over, as though a visual appraisal could determine whether or not the ibuprofen had kicked in. “You are the light of my life and a gift to mankind.”

“ _That's_ one I've never heard before.”

“I'll take you up on it,” Axel decided, “after we get one more awkward question out of the way.”

Damn it, he thought they were done. Roxas gave him a wary look, an implicit, _'Don't set us back,'_ and prompted, “Okay...”

He was actually hesitating. It must have actually been important.

“... If you ever think it's time to run, will you tell me?”

Roxas paused, never actually having thought about doing that. To be fair, he'd never exactly _planned_ it, in his woeful, worry-worn visions of the future... He just knew he'd _bolt_ , and leave Axel behind. It wasn't like he could anticipate when he'd panic and call it quits.

But it wasn't like it came completely out of left field, either.

“... I'll try.”

To his relief, Axel relaxed, and didn't insist on something more than he could manage. “Good. _Now_ we can make out with each other's body parts.”

“That sounds _much_ better.”

Roxas leaned over his lap, and Axel kissed him firmly in clear agreement. The painkillers hadn't taken their full effect just yet, and they were both kind of sticky with dried sweat. Still, neither one could remember the last time they felt this comfortable with each other, and both were breathing easier even with their mouths generously occupied. 


	23. In The Home Stretch

Winter break was supposed to be when a student's life calmed down, however briefly. Except it didn't work that way in the demanding 21st century because the world of education was merciless and practiced very poor BDSM etiquette, continuing to lash out and apply stress long after a safeword had been called.

There was an unfair load of homework dumped on highschoolers and college students alike, and deadlines for post-secondary applications were coming faster than Sora in a heavy petting session. Naturally, there was also a lot of shopping to do, as no one had actually _started_ their Christmas shopping when they'd first started talking about it in November. The lead-up to the holiday was full of people darting in and out of the house, cramming in time for friends or boyfriends or best-friend-fuck-buddies whenever there was a moment to spare.

Christmas itself was already never a quiet affair in a household with triplets, especially seeing as all of them had rather thriving social lives. It was a little bit of a scheduling nightmare, for all the important people they just _had_ to see and wish the appropriate holiday sentiment to on the day of. Sora started off with a bit of a home field advantage, having brought his significant other into the house long-term, but Ven had to be carted around until Christmas dinner. The table had to be set for Ven's plus-three (Terra and Aqua were both a given, and they simply _couldn't_ have Christmas without Sensei Eraqus), Riku was already a permanent fixture, and Kairi and Namine had promised to come by for dessert.

For one whole day, Roxas caused the least amount of woe, since his only possible Christmas guest had been happy to swap nudes throughout the day instead of presents. Axel, as it turned out, didn't have family in the city. His Christmas sounded like it'd be on the depressing side, since even _Demyx_ had plans and somewhere to go, but Roxas had been consistently assured that he was more than happy on his own. If he were being totally honest with himself, Roxas was kind of relieved that he hadn't fished for an invitation or anything – there'd be no explaining that one to his parents. It still took a few hours for the guilt to subside completely, but Axel's frequent picture updates of his No-Clothes-Allowed Holiday Celebration successfully convinced Roxas that he was cool with it.

He'd still been a little worried about the proximity of plastic pine needles to Axel's junk, sure, but the situation had been kept well in-hand. Roxas saved the photographic evidence.

After Christmas, things _started_ to settle. For the most part. There'd been one more big arrangement to work around, and it involved putting Sora and Riku on a plane. Sora's grandparents (on his mother's side) were die-hard Islanders; when the family had packed up and moved to the city, they'd stayed on the warm outskirts, providing a built-in excuse to escape the cold during the rare winters with consistent snowfall. After he'd been reminded that Destiny Islands had a college – and a pretty good one, if the brochures were at all honest – Sora had hit up dear old Gran and Pop-pop and arranged a visit for the New Year. Naturally, Riku needed to come along, and no one had a problem with that since everyone felt kind of awkward over the prospect of him stuck in the house with no Sora for company.

Destiny Islands were Riku's roots, too. He'd left when he was adopted, and Sora had followed shortly after. Yeah, technically it'd been due to some changes and transfers at the company his dad worked for, but no one would deny that Sora's incessant wheedling had something to do with their choice of new home.

It'd been _many_ years since Riku had last seen this place. The way he remembered it, the Islands had been tiny spits of land, surrounded by water that didn't look to ever end. He expected he'd find them even smaller, coming back fully-grown, but instead they actually seemed bigger. He could make out shapes against the horizon, and the walk from one dock to another wasn't as leisurely a stroll as he guessed. Since landing, Sora had pointed out every little thing that struck him as interesting or nostalgic with all the excitement of a sugar-high toddler.

Riku kind of envied him for it. He liked Sora's fond tone, the trickle of wonder accompanying every familiar sight he pointed to, but Riku just wasn't feeling that. Mostly, the things that reminded him of their childhood made him wonder how he went so wrong.

Did Sora even realize _how_ bad things had been, for how much worse had almost happened? If not for getting caught – and in such a cataclysmic way – Riku wouldn't have stopped. He couldn't have.

Things had been dealt with pretty early into his addiction. Riku hadn't managed to hurt anybody... Not as badly as he could've. He wondered what lows he might have sunk to, and if he would have had the self-awareness to know he was out of control. Somehow, he doubted it.

If not for Sora...

... Okay, and in a really awful and questionable way, if not for Roxas, too. If he hadn't been jolted so badly so early on, Riku feared what he might've become. He had nightmares about it, which he'd told Sora before, but he didn't like to go into detail.

Being back on Destiny Islands felt just a tiny bit surreal, walking around a world that belonged to Sora and a much-younger, long-gone Riku. Nevertheless, it was kind of nice to be here.

They'd taken the ferry to the mainland, only ten minutes away from Gran and Pop-pop's, to explore the entirety of the college campus. It wasn't a part of the Islands they'd ever used to go, and the _newness_ made Sora wide-eyed and giddy. All told, the entirety of the college might have fit in HBU's main building, if the College of Destiny Islands was uprooted from the sprawl it was arranged in and pressed closer together. Sora's arms were full of informational pamphlets, notices, schedules, free supplies printed with the logo... and that he managed to keep it all from falling was impressive, because he and Riku were still hand-in-hand as they walked.

“It's kind of like an adventure just walking around,” Sora beamed, walking them out of the Arts wing.

“One where you pick up a ridiculous amount of excess stuff,” Riku agreed.

“But look at this!” Sora tried to wave one of the fliers at him but didn't have the spare fingers to do it. “You can go swimming in the ocean as part of athletics!”

Riku grinned, eyes flickering to the top of his head. “Would you join the competitive team? 'Cause if you do, they'll make you tame your hair.”

“As long as I can fit it under a swimming cap, it's all good, right?”

“ _Can_ you, or would it break through the cap?”

Clearly, Riku had just insulted his honor. Sora's chest puffed out a little. “It's not that bad!”

“Your mom disagrees.”

Hold up – Sora's argument dissolved because a way more important topic had just come up. “My mom talks to you about my hair?”

“We _usually_ talk about your hair,” Riku shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes your sleeping habits.”

Sora flushed. “You never said you talk about me!”

“What else would I have to talk to your _parents_ about?” he laughed.

“... I dunno,” Sora faltered, pensive. Come to think of it, he wasn't really sure what _he_ talked to his parents about. His distinctly recalled asking his mom about... usually food. And sometimes he answered questions, like when they wanted to know where Ven was. And sometimes he lied, like when they wanted to know where Roxas was. Surely there was other stuff... but Sora couldn't think of it, right now. “But whatever, it's embarrassing!”

Riku just laughed more. “Yeah, your mom and I have that in common, too. We love embarrassing you.”

A strangled sound of the utmost suffering gargled around in his throat. “Riku!”

They missed a step when he swooped down to kiss Sora's cheek. Grudgingly, Sora was already forgiving him, because it was kind of a good thing that Riku was building a relationship with his parents. All the better for when they were his in-laws.

“She's gonna want a full report about the campus, you know. Even if you don't decide to go here.”

“I _really_ want to go here.”

“You do?”

The announcement was a little abrupt, but Riku's surprise didn't last. He knew Sora well enough to see all the appeal CDI had; the familiarity and warmth, not just in climate but in atmosphere. The ocean and beach were both expensive and annoying to get to, back home, but here they were only steps away. The campus had character, not like the big lecture halls of HBU.

“Yeah...” Sora affirmed almost dreamily, gazing around. “It's way better than any school near home – uh. I mean...”

He thought he might have just insulted Riku, but it wasn't like he'd built the place or even chosen it. Riku paid no mind, thinking it over.

“... It would be nice,” he decided slowly. “Coming back to the islands.”

Sora relaxed. “Do you think you'd find something, too? Like work, or school. I Googled it and there is, um, a clinic...” He kind of mumbled through the last words, as though saying them barely comprehensibly would make them better. “So, that part would be okay...”

“I... I hadn't thought too hard on what I'd do.” It was a half-truth. Riku had come up with several things he _might_ do, each idea holding a dismal amount of appeal, just because he wasn't sure what anything entailed. He thought about just taking the first job that'd have him, and that would probably wind up being what happened.

It just... It lacked. After everything that'd happened, Riku felt like everything would be a waste of time unless he was helping someone. Maybe he felt he _owed_ something, to Sora or to Kairi or maybe just to the world at large.

Not many things afforded him the chance to help out and also a sustainable living wage.

“But you'd come with me, right?” Sora needled expectantly.

“As long as you're sure that's what you want.”

Still grinning, Sora gave him a look of utter disbelief. Aw, Riku was so _dumb_.

He went a nice shade of sunset pink. “You're sure, then.”

Sora laughed, not unkindly. “I'm sure.”

He made it sound like it should be obvious. Whenever he did that, Riku was all the more uncertain what Sora _saw_ in him. He'd ask, but he didn't think he could tolerate an actual answer, and he was more likely to be teased (affectionately) anyway.

“I'll come to the islands,” he confirmed, “or wherever else you'd want to go.”

“Then we'll start making a plan for you, too.” Sora looked satisfied, but began gnawing at his lip like he'd just discovered it was made of taffy. “I hope it's not too late to apply...”

“It shouldn't be.”

“It'd suck, after I got so excited about this and all,” he fretted idly, honestly uncertain.

“If you're really set on Destiny Islands and applications are closed, you _could_ start in the winter,” Riku suggested. “I think you'll be fine, though. I'm pretty sure they stay open until February. Somewhere around that time.”

“I guess,” Sora was only marginally placated. “But the sooner we can move here, the sooner you can start over...”

Riku's heart did a neat little cartwheel. “...I _would_ like that chance.”

Fondly, Sora squeezed his hand. Riku lifted it to kiss the back of it idly.

“You should apply. We can work on it tonight.”

“Right, I should get the forms from...” Sora trailed off, confusion crossing his face as his head whipped around, looking from one little building to the other. “Uh, where's admissions again?”

Riku drew Sora closer to steer him. “Come on.”

Oh, this was way better than looking around until the Admissions Office sprouted a neon sign. Sora smiled, picking up his feet and just walking on like a lemming while Riku directed him. “What would I do without you?”

“Take twice as long to do anything.”

He thought he'd counter that, for a moment, before admitting, “Yeah, probably. Hey,” he perked up, “are you going to help me with my homework?”

Riku snorted. “No way. That's the great thing about _me_ not being in school.”

“What? Come on!”

“Maybe if you ask _really_ nicely...”

“I can ask nicely,” Sora insisted.

“It'll depend on the homework.”

“Even if I ask really, really nicely?”

Riku looked skeptical. “How nicely is 'really, really'?”

Shooting him a grin that was downright impish, Sora gave him a second. Then, sure enough, Riku flushed bright red.

“Never mind,” he dismissed. “You don't have to specify.”

Man, blushing-Riku was easily the most entertaining thing ever. Sora's smile gave way to snickers, and he was shouldered in retaliation, knocked off-course and papers fluttering out of his hands. To make up for his flagrant abuse, Riku stopped to retrieve them, face still red. They were stacked again, sort of, and Sora tried to pat the papers into a vague pile. The pencils got stuffed into his vast pockets.

“Alright, dork,” Riku sighed. “If you got that our of your system...”

“You were showing me where Admissions is,” Sora prompted brightly. Riku rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. C'mon...”

 

* * *

 

Wandering CDI took less time than they'd planned for, and they wound up taking the early ferry back to Sora's grandparents' house. College swag was dropped off in armfuls, Sora eagerly nattering away to Pop-pop at deafening volume to accommodate his failing hearing. Then, as Sora pointed out, they had plenty of time to just goof around, because 'we said we'd do the application _tonight_ , and it's not tonight yet.' Why waste daylight?

“We could go to the movies, or go out for ice cream, or just walk down to the beach...”

Really, it all sounded good to Riku, though he favored some privacy. The movies might not have been remote, but darkness was nice and intimate. “Movie?”

“A movie would be good...” Unknowingly, Sora was thinking along the same lines, but there wasn't much in theaters he thought they'd agree on. Everything he wanted to see was a kid's movie, and that didn't really fit with the _mood_ he was going for. “Y-Y'know... the caves we used to explore as kids are still there.”

“Really?” The old play island; it was easy to reach even by rowboat, but if they'd find privacy anywhere... that'd be it. “We should check those out. It's been ages.”

“Definitely,” Sora grinned, cheeks a bit heated, and made sure he'd grabbed everything from the guest room. Basic essentials, like keys... and... other things.

They'd both traveled... equipped, but they were staying with _Sora's grandparents_. There hadn't been an opportunity to use anything, or _do_ anything, and even if there had been it'd just be weird to be a couple around Sora's family. His brothers, that was one thing... Parents, another. But grandparents? They were sacred, as was their nice island cottage. The thought crossed Riku's mind that _maybe_ they were going out to celebrate with some good old-fashioned Lover's Lane type shenanigans, but he wasn't sure Sora was thinking the same.

The blush probably wasn't due to _innocent_ thoughts, though.

Their hands linked up on their way out, walking to the shed to drag a canoe over to the dock.

“Do you know what condition it's in?” Riku inquired, pushing the boat. Sora had ditched his shoes pretty promptly and waded into ankle-deep water, pulling it along.

He hoped _their_ cave had remained relatively private. It'd always been hard to find – sometimes even for the two of them.

“Last time I saw it, it looked almost the same... That was two years ago, about? Only the plants around the entrance grew more...” Sora clambered into the canoe, voice way too airy to come off as properly subtle. “I don't think a lot of people know about it anymore.”

Yeah, Riku got the drift pretty quick. “... Are you bringing lube?”

Sora's blush deepened. “... It's in my pocket.”

Miraculously, Riku did _not_ tip the boat when he stumbled into it. He didn't recover quite as smoothly as he would later insist he did.

The row over was nice, in that fuzzy anticipatory way that made them both a little jumpy. Their small talk was minimal, regressing to Sora's standby of pointing things out (like the fact that the palm trees had gotten _twice_ as big and he probably couldn't even wrap his legs around them like he used to, anymore, until Riku pointed out that his legs had gotten longer so maybe he could) while the nervous energy spiraled Riku in a different direction.

There was something he needed to say. Riku took a breath, and utterly failed to be offhand.

“I want you to know... If I didn't have you, I'd never have gotten clean. The person I am now, everything good that you see in me... That's thanks to you. I'll always be grateful for that.”

Floundering, Sora stared, not sure how to take the sudden change in mood. The heady, pleasant tension hadn't gone, but it was definitely _different_ with that big ball of emotion dropped in the middle of it. His cheeks colored, earnestly managing to say, “You know you can count of me for anything, Riku. I'm just happy things turned out like this.”

Pulling the oars up, Riku leaned over them to steal a quick kiss, their boat briefly afloat with no direction to go but the tides'.

“I love you.”

Oh, _that_ was the change. The sexual tension had gone from giddy and electric to warm and calm. It suited them both a lot more.

“You, too,” Sora's grin could've supplied power to an entire metropolis. “And it's gonna be _so awesome_ living together!”

“We already live together, you dork.”

“Yeah, but with my _parents!_ We'll _couple-live_ together!”

They rowed themselves onto shore, both wearing the most insipid love-struck looks as they started to discuss what sort of apartment they'd look for. “Definitely an apartment,” Riku declared, “and not a dorm. I don't think they'd even let me stay with you, if I'm not also a student. A lot of schools provide dorms for married couples, but...”

“What if we got married?” Sora's eyes went wide, awed by the prospect, as they tethered the canoe. “Is that legal?!”

“I'm still not a student at CDI. Let's save the wedding plans for after Terra and Ven's,” Riku snorted, standing upright and looking around the play island. It was remarkable, how _exactly_ he'd remembered it – the tree houses, that big trunk they used to sit on to watch the sunset. The long stretch of beach where they used to spar and race.

“Looks the same, so far,” he commented, but didn't say that it gave him the distinct sense of coming home.

“Things change a lot slower around here,” Sora slipped his shoes off, tossing them into the boat as he started to run ahead with a wave. “C'mon!”

Riku had to scramble to take off his own, then tore after him. Sora was laughing, competition sparked despite the head start he'd seized. Thank god for longer legs, or Riku wouldn't have stood a chance. At a sprint, Riku was only barely behind, sand flying under Sora's feet as he arced up to the rocky cliff face. He only slowed to break through the thick, hanging plant life concealing the mouth of the cave, and Riku caught him by the waist.

Stumbling, Sora almost shouted and laughed, panting lightly. “I don't remember this part of racing...”

“It's new,” Riku placed breathless kisses up his neck, pulling Sora back against him. It did nothing to help the breathing situation, Sora hitching on an inhale when Riku brushed a spot they both knew was sensitive.

Sucking gently, Riku started to pull away when his heartbeat had evened out again. Not to say it wasn't patting a nice little rhythm in double-time, but it wasn't out of exertion anymore. “Let's go in...”

“Mm... 'Kay,” Sora brushed aside the foliage, careful not to hurt the plant life. It was kind of out of respect for nature, but mostly because he didn't want to expose their super-secret special place. The sunlight didn't really break through the wall of vines, but the marvel of modern technology saved them any eye strain. Removing his phone, Sora shined light against the cave walls.

“Looks like it's been safe,” Riku observed, kind of relieved. It really didn't appear as though anyone had found it.

“Yeah... Hey, our drawings!” Sora lit up, pointing at them and directing the flashlight.

“I forgot these were here... _These_ take me back.” Grinning, Riku leaned down to inspect the childish carvings against the cave walls. There were some of a girl – Kairi, obviously, because no other girl had ever visited the Islands with Sora since they'd moved – but most were just pictures from the imagination. Rough drawings of castles, of creatures, of little houses and star shapes.

Nodding, Sora's hand brushed over the rock wall, tracing one of some mermaids. “Sure feels like a long time ago...”

“It was. Lot's happened, since then.”

“Lot more than I ever expected,” Sora agreed, reaching for his hand. Riku squeezed it lightly, drawing him closer.

“You could say that again.”

The hand slipped away, but only for Sora to wind his arms around Riku, phone dropped in the sand and lips seeking each other. He almost whimpered when Riku's tongue gently prompted the kiss deeper, pushing himself up to his toes until his back carefully met the cave wall. Arching into him, Sora's hands slipped down to tug at his clothing, patience never having been his strongest suit. If they weren't kissing, the sound Riku made would've been more easily identified as a laugh, but it totally could have passed for a groan.

This was still kissing time. Riku's shirt could come off _later_. He was in a good position to feel up under Sora's, though, and skimmed his fingers up beneath the hem.

“Mm...” Being touched was good, too. Sora sank heavily into the wall to grant Riku all the access he wanted, and enjoyed the cause-and-effect at work. _Touching_ meant Riku's kisses got more heated, deft and passionate but never demanding, and his palms started to work their way higher.

He really couldn't get enough of sex, when it was like this. Nothing Riku had ever done before felt this good, which was especially a good thing for a recovering addict to discover. The kiss broke apart when Sora was mid-moan, and Riku _needed_ to press their hips together while he caught his breath. His voice had _echoed_. That was so fucking cool.

“Nn...” As long as he was there, Sora was going to grind against him blissfully. His hands rested on the back of Riku's neck, perhaps the inspiration behind him descending on Sora's, and he practically held him there while Riku sucked and teased with an approving hum.

Moans were getting harder to contain and they were twice as loud. With a surprising amount of conscientiousness, Sora mumbled, “We should be... fast, probably...”

“I think you're just impatient,” Riku hummed, almost devious, and trailed his hand down lower.

“Hey, I don't wanna get caugh-... ah...”

Riku suppressed a shiver. “No one's found this place... Didn't see anyone else on the island... We're hidden.”

Rocking against each other, Sora clutched Riku's waist and breathed his name, rucking his shirt up to get to skin. He almost writhed when Riku scraped his teeth oh-so-gently across his pulse, arousal pretty insistent and on the move. He was on the fast-track to getting an erection, and Riku was aiding the process by unzipping his shorts.

“Fast is good...” Riku licked the tiny mark he made, a soft pink spot that wouldn't even bruise. He'd just brushed Sora's cock, almost startled to find him so hard and wanting. “Forget what I said, I don't want to tease you, I want to make you feel good...”

His hands flew to the fly of Riku's jeans. “We have lots of time together to make things last... I just wanna celebrate this.”

Snagging a brief kiss, Sora drew back to physically convince Riku's jeans to leave the party area. Stealing the lube out of Sora's pocket, he let them fall and recaptured the kiss to do it _properly_. His surprised sound was muffled, becoming distinctly delighted when Riku focused on skin-to-skin contact. Their bare legs were sliding around and between, pressing in and grinding.

Normally, Sora would have tossed his shirt too... but the cave wall was kind of scratchy and he didn't think he'd enjoy that very much. Riku's could go, though. With a tiny push back, Sora tried his hand at amateur magic and made the shirt disappear.

Except, as magic sometimes did, it had an unintended side-effect. Riku was uncapping the bottle, and sinking to one knee. Sora's eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to know he wasn't mistaking what he saw.

“Whoa,” he stared, and poorly clamped down on his reflexive urge to babble. “Are you sure? I mean, we haven't done this part before and that's a _whoa_ thing to do -”

“I want to,” Riku interrupted, thankful to the dark for hiding his blush. The dark was a real pal. “If you want to, I mean, I just... I want you to make you feel so good, and this is the perfect place, in a way -”

“I really want to,” Sora cut him off, words kind of blending in his rush. “Will you, um... Are you going to do, like, _prep stuff_... at the same time?”

“That's the idea,” Riku confirmed, slicking his fingers. “Don't let me hurt you, okay?”

“You won't,” he breathed. Whoa, holy shit, this was actually a thing that was about to happen. “Should I move...? Make it easier...?”

Riku's mind went blank. “How?”

“Um...” Truthfully, Sora hadn't thought it through either. He just had this super-embarrassing image of Riku... _doing that_... while also doing _that_... and how was Sora supposed to stay standing? He wasn't superhuman. He had regular bones, like anyone else, and regular bones were weaker than boners. That was just science. “We could...be on the ground? Ew, no, sand... Sand in bad places...”

Helplessly, Riku's forehead rested against Sora's leg as he snickered. “This'll be fine. I'll hold you up... when we're ready to take the next step, you could turn around?”

With a hasty nod, Sora sank back and arched his hips forward. He couldn't help casting a look to the cave entrance, embarrassed just by the thought of someone walking by and _knowing_ what they were doing in here, but Riku was right. There'd been no one around, and no one on their way.

This really was like their personal, private sexy paradise, with a secluded cave and sun-soaked beach and his boyfriend about to give him a blowjob.

Oh holy fucking wow, Riku was going to _give him_ a _blowjob_.

A single warm, wet finger prodded his entrance, Riku feeling his way there with practiced ease. He'd gotten a lot better at finding the prostate, though it still wasn't a first-try sort of thing. Sora didn't mind, already buzzing and releasing a big breath to go pliant.

Then... lips, even warmer than his hands and as soft as his hair, gently parting over the shaft on their way up to the head. Sora pressed his upper body harder into the wall, eyes squeezing shut with a moan. The finger worked into him, the mouth dragged over the tip -

There was the barest brush to his g-spot, and Sora almost choked, grabbing at nothing. Riku's lips abandoned him, just for a second.

“Sora?”

Oh man, he was dizzy. Good-dizzy. The concern in Riku's voice was surprising, though, and it took Sora a second to remember why – he was probably really self-conscious, not sure if he would get it wrong.

“There was good,” he reassured him quickly. “You found it.”

Riku relaxed, and curled his finger, seeking. “Around... here?”

“Mn... close. Where you were – _nngh_...”

That was what he'd wanted to know. Satisfied, Riku's fingertip roved in small circles, the other hand wrapped around the base of Sora's erection. It wasn't so intimidating, when Sora was panting, arching, encouraging.

Feeling abruptly breathless, Riku parted his lips over the tip and flicked his tongue around it.

“ _Hah_ -... Y-yeah,” Sora shivered, trying to cling to the wall instead of Riku's hair, the way he wanted. He would come _way_ too fast if he grabbed his hair. “Ri-ku...”

The finger worked in and out of him slowly, no longer his main focus. His sucks were shallow, only able to swallow him halfway before the discomfort was too foreign to wrap his mind around, but his mouth had wrapped around this much without any complaints. As promised, the hand not inside him went to Sora's hip to lend a little support, head bobbing back and forth just-barely while he sucked and tongued at him instead.

It wasn't skilled by even the vaguest definition, but it was no less incredible for it. His mouth was so warm, explorations bold, and it was undeniably the best thing to ever happen to Sora's dick. Knowing that it could be any better than this would've shut down the centers of his brain he needed to do things like breathe.

Riku had already come to conclusion that he'd be perfectly happy to practice.

“I can take more,” Sora groaned; he thought he might be melting and he didn't want this to be over too soon, and he wanted Riku _inside_ but he'd be happy if this never ended, too. Riku almost protested, or just denied him without saying a word, but decided to trust that he wasn't moving too quickly. A second finger worked in alongside the first, and Sora adjusted almost effortlessly.

'Almost', because there was still distracting things being done to his erection. Riku was tentatively discovering how hard he could suck, and Sora's knees shook with the effort of staying still. Control of his vocal chords was _long_ gone, his moans seemingly unending when the cave kept echoing them back.

Scissoring his fingers, Riku pulled himself back and ran his tongue over the slit, accidentally letting Sora fall from his mouth. He took the opportunity to breathe in, and caught Sora before he could slide any further down the wall; he hadn't actually noticed, what with his focus being elsewhere, but his hips were thrust so far out now that he'd slouched almost all the way down.

“Stay up... You okay?” Riku helped him stand upright again.

“M'great,” Sora breathed, though he kind of felt like he had no strength left in his body. He pulled his shirt down, smoothing it, and resisted rocking down against Riku's fingers. He didn't do a very good job with the resisting-thing. “Just want more...”

“I can give you more... Nothing hurts, so far?”

“No,” he shook his head, sucking on his lower lip idly. “I'm kind'f used to it now -”

Wait, _abort sentence._

Too late. Riku paused. “You've been...?”

If he were a little less horny, he'd be so mortified. “Uh, heh... Yeah... In the shower...”

It wasn't his fault! Sora knew from experience that his libido needed to be tired out, before he got into bed with Riku! Snuggling was inevitable, and _snuggling_ had turned out to be the easiest way to flick the switch to his blood flow. It redirected to his cock within _minutes_ , and no one wanted a cuddle-boner they couldn't then... address.

“Do you do this a lot...?” Intrigued, Riku began to ease a third inside. Sora moaned sharply, arching again and undoing his nice job of smoothing his shirt.

“Ye- _ah_...”

Riku exhaled slowly. “... Fuck.”

Now every time Sora showered, he'd be picturing him fingering himself. Cuddle-boners had just become an unavoidable part of Riku's bedtime routine.

“Can't wait-... _Riku_ ,” Sora almost demanded, so incredibly ready. He was so open for him, aching for more, and Riku would've laughed if he didn't want him, too.

“Just a bit more, just to be sure...”

“M'gonna kick you.”

“Doubt it.”

Mercifully, he really only did work him open 'a bit more'. Riku withdrew his fingers one at a time, and Sora buckled slightly when he got back to his feet.

“Okay... Turn around,” Riku breathed, kissing the corner of his lips while he still had the chance. Assuming he'd missed, and not that he was trying to be considerate of where his mouth had just been, Sora kissed him properly before pushing himself upright and around. Riku slicked himself, one arm wrapping around Sora's waist as he braced himself.

He could feel rougher parts to the stone where it'd been carved into, under his palms. Sora grinned, let Riku guide his legs to part and his hips to jut back.

Slow and gentle, Riku pushed himself inside, savoring every inch that connected them. Leaning into his forearm, Sora moaned loudly, and it did absolutely nothing to stifle him.

If there had been anyone around, they'd definitely have been caught by now. The thought tickled Riku with a thrill, and his grip on Sora tightened, buried inside to the hilt.

“Alright?”

“Mm,” Sora hummed, nodding. His breathing was heavy, and Riku's really wasn't any better. His hips dragged back and forward, slick and warm and tight around his cock, and the motion opened Sora up with a teasing pressure sweeping his prostate. Ineffectively choking back sounds, he flung his trust at Riku to keep him balanced and took one hand off the wall, stroking himself.

'Slow' didn't last. Riku was too aware of their surroundings and his blood ran ten degrees hotter as a result, and neither of them had been aware that Sora _could_ be louder but damn if he wasn't. He repeated Riku's name like he revered it, pumping his length in uneven strokes, getting tight in infrequent bursts when he thought he _might_ be on the brink -

“Won't last long, like this,” Riku panted, and leaned forward over him, hair falling like a curtain and brushing Sora's shoulder. “You're perfect...”

The response wasn't made up of words. They were kind of just broken, blissful syllables, and Sora stopped trying to hold his orgasm in. That couldn't be good for him, anyway.

“Riku-...” he stuttered, twisting his hand. “M'gonna...”

“Do it, I will too, I'm so close...”

There was nothing remotely subdued in the way Sora tossed his head back, calling out Riku's name so loud it might've reverberated against the cave walls for days. It was all Riku could do to keep from spilling into him, pulling out only just in time to streak the back of Sora's thighs. Climax left him paradoxically light and heavy, drawing him down to rest against Sora's back. He ignored the mess they'd just made of themselves, lazy kisses planted anywhere Riku could reach.

If he needed to describe what it felt like... Riku probably would've provided the word 'high', but that was an inside-thought, not an outside-thought. Might be too soon. But... fuck. He felt amazing. He felt _loved_ , and like his own affection for Sora was overflowing. He kind of wanted to say something about it, but no words fit.

“How d'you feel?”

Sora slumped forward contentedly. “Perfect,” he mumbled, turning himself around. “I love you...”

“Love you too...” Riku kissed him softly. They didn't part from each other for at least a minute, even though they were too hot and really sticky.

“... I don't _wanna_ put my clothes on,” Sora murmured his complaint to Riku's tongue, and they finally parted so that Riku could wheeze in laughter. Glimpsing the drawings on the wall didn't help his amusement, still buzzed off afterglow, and Sora's shoulders shook with suppressed giggles.

“Think we should apologize to our childhood memories?” Riku asked when he'd gotten a hold of himself. “We did just expose them to some really adult things.”

“I think they'll be okay,” Sora laughed, then lit up. “Wanna go swimming? We could skinny dip our grossness off!”

“... Your energy reserves are insane,” Riku looked at him in vague disbelief, but mulled it over. They _were_ pretty disgusting, and he was pretty much always up for a swim... and they were still alone on the island.

When he thought about it that way, it was kind of a no-brainer.

“Yeah, why not.”

“Cool! Race you!” Sora scooped up his shorts and phone, shaking sand off it and stuffing it in the folds of his clothes. Then he peeled off his shirt and streaked out of the cave, parting the plants that had so generously given them cover, laughing with the giddy abandon of a teenager who'd just gotten laid. Riku snorted, snatched his clothing off the ground, and ran after him into the cold crash of ocean waves.

 


	24. Healing Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muffin's alternate title to this chapter was 'Ejaculation'. Because it means TALKING, and it means... the other obvious thing! I thought it was funny! Because this chapter is so much talking, and so much sex! YOU GET IT.
> 
> But Stud thought it was a touch on the nose, so that's the title you get instead.
> 
> Once again, a long-standing tag becomes relevant with this marathon of a chapter. Enjoy, y'all!

It'd been a toss-up, whether or not Axel and Roxas would continue their comfort-streak once school started up again. Second semester brought a new wave of classes, which were almost relaxing after the crush of exams, but there was still more work to be done on the whole application front.

And then... there wasn't.

It was done. Roxas had nothing else to do but scrape good grades, and wait to get word back from his various applications. A lot of the paperwork he'd done had actually been about financial aid, and the schools he'd sent essays to (among other things, like a full breakdown of all the extracurriculars he'd ever done and the volunteer hours he'd crammed in, among work and homework and dumb things like sleep) had been narrowed down to three. Hollow Bastion was still his favorite, and it had very little to do with any fond memories he had of getting spectacular dick in the science wing.

He'd hear in a couple of months. In the meantime... he could pretty much forget about 'em, and that called for one hell of a celebration.

Axel had made sure Demyx wouldn't be home all day, vehemently recommending some quality time with Zexion unless he wanted to be tied to a bus with his broken guitar strings. The threat to his precious baby was both cruel, and uncalled for. He stocked up on the sea salt confectioneries, then taken off to meet Roxas after school at a bar and grill of his choosing. They might get something to eat, but probably not.

The dining lounge was actually pretty upscale, as the occasion plainly called for. Although Roxas still looked kind of tired, what with the dark circles of stress emphasizing his baby blues like overdone eyeshadow, he was dressed pretty nicely. Not too nicely, lest the high school students he was surrounded by all day think he was a little bitch for daring to class up his wardrobe, but nice enough. He waited outside the door, coat unzipped and phone in hand, and raised his head when he heard the roar of a motorcycle engine.

Yup, there he was. Not dressed _nearly_ as pretty, but acceptable. Roxas grinned faintly, watching Axel find somewhere to park, lock up his helmet, and fluff up his flattened hair. He slid his phone into the very narrow pocket of his tight jeans – the same ones he'd worn to distract Riku way back when, but he'd long forgotten that – and greeted Axel when he approached, stupid grin on his stupid attractive face.

“Hey.”

“He-ey,” Axel drew it out and draped an arm over his shoulders. “How's it feel to be a free man?”

“Like I can barely stand.” Seriously, he was sinking under the weight of Axel's arm. It wasn't left there for long, the two of them separating to fit in the restaurant’s front door. A very welcome blast of climate-controlled air warmed their faces as they pushed inside.

“Applications fuck you that hard?”

“Wasn't the applications so much as all the research figuring out what to apply _for_. Did you know there's a scholarship you can get for being over 6'2 and under twenty-one? Maximum of one thousand dollars.”

“Holy shit. It's so unfortunate that you're short.”

“Yeah. Fuck you.”

They were directed by the hostess to a corner booth on the lounge side, Axel's presence effectively bolstering the legitimacy of any claims Roxas made of being legal drinking age. Dropping into the cushioned seat, Axel started removing his jacket and offered, “Least it's over.”

With a nod of agreement, Roxas ditched his coat and slid in across from him. “Buy me a drink. Or several.”

“Several it is. Just swap with me, I can't drink if I'm driving, anyway.”

“You're the best,” Roxas tiredly praised, and put his elbows on the table in a manner entirely unlike a proper young man. He slumped forward, dragging the drink menu over.

“Only for you, babe.” Axel's tone was light, but he probably meant it. “What do you want?”

“I dunno. Whatever. Beer, I guess.”

“You sure?” Axel raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with his choice. “You can go crazy on this one, you've earned it.”

“What do you suggest?”

Stealing the menu, Axel scanned it for something a little more celebratory, turning it over upon deciding that shots didn't fit the mood. “Hm... These'd hit a bit harder. You like coffee liqueur, right?”

“Was gonna get coffee if I couldn't drink.”

Axel turned over the menu. “Black Russian?”

With a quick, critical glance-over, Roxas seemed pleased by this offering. “Okay, that one.”

“You have _fine_ taste. Just get me something caffeinated.”

“Sure. Shame liqueur won't wake me up.”

“Could give you some of mine. Get you both energized _and_ drunk.”

Roxas grinned. “Dangerous mix.”

“Best kind.” Axel removed his ID to show as they were approached by the server, given classy black menus that were bound in faux-leather. Without looking at any of their other drinks, Roxas ordered a strong brand of coffee that he was fond of in particular, preemptively deciding that his celebration meant that he could steal as many sips as he wanted.

Once the server had left, Axel pocketed his ID and picked up the conversation. “So what're you gonna do now with all your free time? Study hard? Work like a productive member of society?”

“Sleep.”

“Eventful,” Axel snorted.

“Maybe I'll actually spend some time with my other friends. I'll probably have to do extra shifts, though,” he frowned.

“That sucks.”

“What about you? Gonna... flirt with telemarketers?” Possibly the lamest jibe he’d ever made, but he was tired, and they couldn’t all be winners.

“New classes don't actually free up my schedule much,” Axel lamented. “If I get a night off, though, maybe I'll lurk around some high school parties. Cruise for blondes.”

“Yeah, I can see how that'd be thrilling,” he rolled his eyes in what was probably the most affectionate manner he was capable of.

“More thrilling than my 'general interest' course. All the good shit was taken, so I got stuck with 'Creative Non-Fiction'. I've got to study old memoirs and write essays about 'em. _How_ will that apply to my career of playing with chemicals?”

“That sounds really rough. No one has it harder than you.”

“I _know_. We started on these old autobiographical reports written by this old asshole named Xehanort? They're so _boring_...”

Their server returned with their drinks, then, with an inquiring side-eye of their closed menus. Axel accepted the cocktail with a grin and dismissal of, “Nah, nothing to eat, for me...”

“Same,” Roxas echoed. He'd had plenty at lunch, and his appetite was still kind of deadened by prolonged stress. They waited until their server had gone before swapping drinks, putting them both in kind of the middle of the table so as to have plausible deniability.

“Dunno if you've had this, but it's good,” Roxas gestured to the coffee before taking his cocktail and tipping it back. Axel accepted it with a slower sip, since he was only mortal and had a reasonable amount of tolerance for steaming hot liquid.

“Hm,” he considered it. Very strong, but it sure as hell kicked his taste buds into more alert shape. “Like I said, you have good taste.”

“Don't be so sure. I let _you_ be my friend, after all.”

“Exception to every rule?” Axel smirked.

“Must be.” Roxas was already finishing off the cocktail. Axel raised an eyebrow.

“You appear to have needed that.”

“You have no idea,” he exhaled, putting down the glass. He already felt a bit better, if even less awake. Out of the kindness of his heart, Axel took another sip of the coffee before pushing the cup Roxas's way.

“You look like you need this, too.”

Graciously, Roxas accepted with a nod and a long sip. “Mn... Yeah, thanks.”

“Not that you aren't adorable when you're doing the sleepy-kitten thing, but you need to perk up,” Axel commented, and marveled at how fast Roxas could go probably-not-a-murderer to stone-cold-serial-killer.

“I'm _what_ , sorry?”

Fearless, Axel drawled, “Adorable.”

He was kicked under the table. Roxas appeared satisfied by the _thump_ of his shoe against shin, sipping more of Axel's coffee with no intention of giving it back.

“Ow. Your abuse would wound me so, if it wasn't kinky.”

“Don't make me think about how I can abuse you right now. I'm busy drinking.”

“But I thought we were celebrating?”

“I don't intend to end my night getting arrested for public indecency,” Roxas argued, and it was absolutely mostly true. If he wound up in holding for being inappropriately fucked on a motorcycle again, he'd live with that. “Get me another drink.”

“I don't know how to celebrate without spending a night behind bars,” Axel complained, and sought to catch their server's eye.

“Don't be so disappointed. I'll make sure you end up in handcuffs at some point, tonight.”

Neither of one of them was talking particularly loud. Just loud enough, and if the man now paying close attention hadn't known that voice so well, they still would have been left to their privacy. As it was, Ansem had taken a booth to himself, intending to spend some time reviewing quarterly reports, when Roxas's brand of quips reached his ears.

Accepting a glass of water from the server, Ansem smirked, and continued to eavesdrop.

“I know I started this, but I regret it,” Axel sighed. “Bad time to remember I've got tight jeans on.”

Roxas laughed too genuinely to come off like a proper schemer, brushing Axel's leg with his own. Their server was back, taking their second drink order, and Axel's coffee was finally returned with the arrival of a second Black Russian.

He sipped his new cocktail slower. Constantly, but slower.

“We should drag out the whole celebration thing,” Axel announced once he'd finished off the coffee, sliding the empty cup aside. “Get you ice cream, get you sex, sleep for a while... Then more sex, and more ice cream, 'til it's late enough to justify more drinking.”

Roxas started to grin against the rim of his glass. “You're better at this celebration thing than I am.”

“Only the best, for the occasion.”

With one raised eyebrow, Ansem began putting away his reports.

“Alright,” Roxas set down his half-finished drink briefly. “Ice cream sounds good.”

“Want to finish that off, or go now?”

Pointedly, Roxas tipped it back. Axel snickered.

“Yeah, dumb question.”

Ansem rose from his seat, eyes sharply focused on Roxas, and waited. It didn't take at all long, and as Roxas put his empty glass down heavily, his gaze found Ansem.

Struck dumb, Roxas froze.

“I'm assuming the usual place is good, but I did stock up my free-... Rox?”

Smirk playing on his lips, Ansem subtly motioned with one hand. Roxas stared, mentally mapping out the restaurant, before making his decision and getting distractedly to his feet.

“I'll be right back,” he told Axel, sounding a little far away. Perplexed, he frowned.

“... Sure...”

Roxas left his coat behind, a private guarantee to himself that he wasn't lying, before heading away from the table. His alcohol tolerance was too high to feel like this – a bit vacant, like reality had shifted just an inch to the left and he hadn't quite figured out how to adjust yet.

He knew Ansem would come to him, and not the other way around... even though it looked an awful lot like Roxas was going to _him_. He wanted somewhere out of Axel's sight, though, and ducked into the hallway obscuring the path to the washrooms.

Ansem wasn't far behind.

“Roxas.” He greeted him with irritating confidence, as though they'd just been talking the other day. Or some other time that wasn't ages ago.

“You can't call me like some animal, anymore,” Roxas shot at him, refusing to look Ansem in the eye.

“I believe I just did,” Ansem tilted his chin. “Or am I mistaken?”

“What do you want?” Eyes narrowing, he slapped Ansem's hand away.

“You can't evade me forever, you know that.” Disallowed to touch him, Ansem's hand pressed to the wall over Roxas's head instead. “I've seen you... displaying yourself, allowing other men to touch you. Is it _all_ to substitute for me?”

“You've got nothing to do with it. You haven't owned me _or_ what I do for a long time.”

“You admit I did once, though,” Ansem smirked. “I'm flattered.”

Rolling his eyes, Roxas deigned not to respond.

Waiting with an increasing sense of something being off, Axel rapped his fingers against the surface and looked around, seeing if he could pinpoint Roxas's location. Probably just the bathroom, or something.

... He'd wait another minute. If he followed... Roxas would probably be pissed.

“You miss it, don't you?” Ansem murmured. “The simplicity. When I found you – when I _saved_ you, you never wanted to feel or think for yourself again.”

“You didn't save me from anything, and I don't need saving now,” Roxas snapped.

Ansem dared to touch him again, brushing the dark circles under his eyes with feathery delicacy. “Don't you?”

He was leaning closer, and Roxas played through the motions of shoving him away in his mind's eye. He didn't manage to.

“I can tell you what to feel, Roxas, even now. Or I can make you feel nothing.”

“Don't touch me.”

“Then stop me.”

Roxas didn't, feeling frozen in his skin while a long-buried part of him purred with guilty indulgence.

Back at the table, Axel got up with the grave acceptance that Roxas would be pissed that he'd come looking for him, and went to seek him out.

Ansem kept talking to him as though Roxas were a disobedient child he was scolding. “That's all your... persona is, isn't it? You never stay long enough to start feeling. You keep running away... but you haven't run far enough.”

That was enough to inspire Roxas to shove him back, breaking the contact. “What does that even mean? Could you just cut the bullshit, for once?”

“Do you think _he_ knows this is all just delaying your inevitable return?”

“My return,” Roxas repeated flatly. “To you?”

“It all leads back to me,” Ansem declared smoothly. “Everything you've become. Once you've worn down your pride, it will lead you back, too.”

Eyes widening a little, Roxas resisted the niggling little worry that there was some logic behind his confidence. “You're psycho, you know that?”

Axel paused, right around the corner.

“If you honestly believe that everything I do is some... _conspiracy_ because I never got over you, you're insane.”

“If nothing else, you must be curious,” Ansem began to gravitate towards him, again. “About what you never got.”

It was a split-second decision, carried out because Axel had always had fairly poor impulse control if he hadn't planned his actions in advance. He rounded the corner, and spoke up with the air of someone talking about the weather. “Roxas tends to pursue the shit he's curious about. How about you leave him alone and wait for him to decide he wants 'what he never got'?”

Ansem was _way_ too close. Roxas's lungs forgot how to work, chest seizing.

Out of every plausible end to this, Axel's appearance was the one he wanted least.

“Well, what a surprise to see you,” Ansem commented, dripping with disdain. “Still here.”

“I'm like a leech,” Axel breezed. “Pretty hard to cut me loose.”

“Clearly.” Ansem's lip curled, and he leaned close enough to mutter something into Roxas's ear. The trance broke, and Roxas pushed Ansem as hard as he could, feeling cold. He slipped out from under his arm and retreated to Axel's side, glowering.

“Do your freaky minion thing, I don't care, but stay the _fuck_ away from me.”

“If Roxas wants you, he'll go to you,” Axel backed him up evenly. “Don't fuck with him in the meantime, alright?”

Ansem regarded them both, but only spoke to Roxas, amused. “I suppose now you'll sleep with him to prove a point.”

“I'll sleep with him because I want to feel his dick, if you're so concerned with my motivation,” Roxas retorted, deadpan. Axel grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes.

“And we were gonna do that, anyway.”

To prevent Ansem from responding again, Roxas spoke louder and started to pull Axel's arm. “Next time you try to talk to me, I _will_ take out a restraining order.”

Steered back, Axel was practically marched towards their table. They left Ansem, and Roxas made no move to check whether or not he'd stayed back in the hallway or was trying to pursue to get the last word in.

“So...” Axel muttered uncertainly. “Another drink?”

“We're leaving,” Roxas informed him, steely.

“Got it. I'll go pay.”

“I'll just... go. Outside. I'll wait.”

“You sure?” Axel lowered his voice. “What if he follows you?”

“He won't,” Roxas shook his head. “Won't act desperate.”

The bitterness was hard not to hear.

“... Good.” Nodding a little, Axel picked up his jacket and fished out his keys, passing them over to Roxas. “Unlock your helmet?”

“Sure.”

Oddly, Roxas felt like he was watching himself when he took the keys, left the lounge, and approached the bike. His coat was left unzipped for the time being, his fingers not knowing how to work a key into a lock. They wound up slipping from his grip and falling next to the front wheel, and Roxas cursed at them before leaning over, putting his weight on the bike and trying to breathe.

He wasn't sure how long Axel took, but it felt like forever.

“... Rox?”

His boots made crisp noises against the concrete. Roxas shook his head, not having anything in him to say just yet.

“... Hey...” Axel's hand hovered, having reached to touch him but stopping. “Is it cool if I...?”

“Yeah...”

Gently, an arm rested against Roxas's shoulders. “... That guy's freaky as hell. Not to mention a complete scumbag,” he said, because it was easier for him to talk rather than keep quiet and he didn't know one way or the other what Roxas needed. “But the only way he can do shit to you is if you _want_ him to.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I-... I know.”

Carefully, Axel picked up his keys to unlock the helmets. “No one can control you. Anyone who thinks otherwise is _hilariously_ wrong.”

He was being handed a helmet. Straightening up a little, Roxas focused on the task of putting it on, and found that he could smile a little, even though his fingers still felt kind of numb. “I thought he learned that.”

“I think he's an optimist. Or deluded.”

“Completely deluded,” Roxas agreed, nodding with just a touch of desperation. “Take me back to your place.”

“Whatever you want. You call the shots.” Axel put on his helmet, and started up the engine. When Roxas got on behind him, his grip on Axel's waist was much tighter than necessary, but he had the good sense not to say anything about it.

The trip was a little soothing... but only a little. Roxas pressed himself to Axel's back just to feel him, counting out his breaths until his head felt clear. The drive was simultaneously too long and too short, and Roxas unwound very slowly from Axel's waist when he parked the bike.

As Axel started to lock up, Roxas got up and tugged at the helmet, finding out the hard way he was shakier than he'd realized. The helmet stuck, and with a frantic curse, he practically ripped it off and sent it flying a few feet. It hit the ground with a loud smack and rolled.

Axel froze. Roxas's hands shook.

“... Fuck, sorry.”

“It's cool, I've got it,” Axel shrugged, and went to pick it up. Faintly embarrassed, Roxas sighed, turning his gaze downward.

Methodically, Axel locked up both helmets with the bike, trying to find a casual way to say something and not pulling it off. “He really gets to you that much, huh?”

“I don't know. I guess so.” Roxas didn't look up.

“... He's got no hold over you, y'know. Even now, with this – he gets to you, sure, but he'll never control you. Or own you, or any of the shit he seemed to think he could do. But if you want me to set him on fire...”

Slowly, Roxas started to nod, and grabbed for Axel before they could be on their way to the elevator. Axel looked down at him in surprise.

“That a yes on the arson thing...?”

To the surprise of them both, Roxas laughed. “I'll think about it.”

Arms wrapped around Axel and he was pulled down a little, Roxas burying his face against his collarbone, which was one of the pointiest and least comforting places on Axel's body. His arms were nice, though, and they went around Roxas's shoulders, hugging him with just the right amount of pressure and more body heat than seemed humanly possible.

It was easier to breathe, like this. Roxas closed his eyes, letting that happen, until something occurred to him that knocked the air right out of him again.

“... I need you, Axel.”

“What?”

He might mean sexually. Axel wouldn't _assume_ he meant sex, 'cause he'd kind of struck that from his list of activities when Roxas started panicking, but maybe that was what he meant.

“I would be completely losing it if you weren't here...” Roxas's arms fell, pulling back. “Fuck. I don't know what I mean.”

“Obviously, you mean that you're desperately in love with me and want to move into the suburbs,” Axel filled in for him. “Have a couple of kids.”

Roxas rolled his eyes, and as much as he enjoyed the lightening of a conversation, it spoke volumes of his seriousness that he didn't rain his tiny fists down on Axel's chest. “I mean that... you're my best friend, I knew that already. And I've tried running away from you. It doesn't work.”

Axel was kind of sure that was a compliment. “Leech-like. What'd I tell you?”

Roxas grinned a little. “Don't ruin it, I'm saying things. I'm trying to say that... I don't want to go anywhere. I just... I don't know. I don't know what happens, now.”

“You don't have to know,” Axel supplied immediately. “Nothing happens that you don't want to happen, we just... do what we've been doing. That's started working really well, for us.”

Unconsciously, something that'd been pulling Roxas taut slackened, and he relaxed. “... Okay.”

“It's all up to you. The world bows to your indomitable will,” Axel grinned. “We can change our plans to whatever you want.”

Caught off-guard, Roxas appeared almost offended. “I _do_ still want celebratory sex.”

“... I don't know why I'm surprised.”

They started over to the elevators, at last, a great deal more comfortable. Roxas's head was still swimming just a little, but the panic had successfully subsided, though it's stage-double 'anxiety' hadn't stopped waiting in the wings.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you... I kicked Dem out until tomorrow morning.”

“I guessed you were prepared, with all the sex and ice cream talk.”

“You text me saying you want to celebrate, I make assumptions. I know you.”

They made their way to Axel's apartment, coats taken off in the elevator and keys already in-hand, because it paid to be prepared. As he opened the door, Axel gestured dramatically with one wide, sweeping motion.

“And, as you can see, I went to a lot of effort to set a romantic as hell atmosphere.”

The apartment had been tidied... marginally, following an explosion of old Chemistry notes and lingering Christmas decor.

“I'm swooning.” Roxas slipped his shoes off by the door. Their jackets were dropped to the side, and Axel leaned down to unzip his boots.

“I'm a Casanova, alright.”

“Shut up,” Roxas snickered, and wound his hands in the front of Axel's shirt the moment he stood back up. His heart was beating too fast, but he wasn't sure what was causing it anymore.

Reaching over his shoulder, Axel locked the door before he obliged and kissed him, practically dragged against Roxas in his eagerness to deepen it. Axel wound up pinning him to the door, pressing against him, which was exactly what Roxas needed before he knew he needed it.

Axel tasted like coffee, and his body felt like lava, and his hands were starting to move down to his hip and through his hair. It was hard to think about anything else.

“Mmn...” Hands unwound from his shirt to slip under it, instead, seeking out all the sensitive spots along Axel's torso. He was aiming to turn him on fast, nipping his lower lip and pressing a leg up between Axel's, and he was doing a damn good job. Roxas could play him like a fiddle – although, ironically, his fiddle-playing was not up to par.

Groaning, Axel kissed him with more intent and palmed his way to Roxas's ass. “Stay like this, or get horizontal?” he inquired, fingers kneading. Roxas urged him on with a pleased intake of breath, privately hoping he'd be rougher about it and not disappointed.

“Ah-... Did promise to get you in handcuffs... But we've got all night for that.”

“Nngh... We'll be thorough... Cover all bases...”

Roxas was grinding against him, sending tingling warmth all through Axel's groin, which he wouldn't have wanted to stop if it weren't for the fact that his clothes just didn't suit the situation. What was he even dressed so nicely for, anyway? Things needed to be way more casual.

“Yeah?” Letting his shirt be stripped away, Roxas pried at Axel's to get them on an equal playing field.

“Start at the wall... maybe move to the floor, after...” Shirts were thrown in the vague direction of the living room. “Break for sustenance... then make our way to the bed?”

Axel was unzipping his own dark jeans, and Roxas helped slide them down his hips.

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, wrestling them down and leaning into the door when his own jeans were next. His hips arched away from the door, seeking contact just as much as he was being cooperative.

“I didn't think ahead enough,” Axel lamented, inwardly kicking himself. “Don't have lube _right here_...”

“Got you covered.” Swatting his hands away long enough to get to his back pocket, Roxas withdrew a packet of lube and condom, grinning devilishly. They were the sort that were given out by the school nurse, if you played your cards right and asked the right questions, and he'd thought it might be convenient to have some around.

Axel concealed a laugh and let it become a purr, nipping him and taking them both. “What would I do without you...”

Both hands slipped around Axel's jaw and brought him up to kiss him, which was the cleverest thing Roxas could think to do in place of giving a smart-ass answer. It was hungry and heated in no time, Axel picking up where he left off with the jeans and helping Roxas out of them.

It took some skill to get naked against a wall, but damn if they didn't manage it. Axel got the condom on himself first and foremost, then felt him over with his free hand. They weren't nearly as close as Roxas needed them to be. With a tiny growl of frustration, Roxas broke away from the kiss and planted his hands firmly on Axel's shoulders.

“Catch me,” he instructed, and waited for Axel to brace himself properly.

“Yeah...”

Breathlessly, Axel anticipated what he was about to do and hoisted him, grip around his thighs. Roxas gripped him tighter and leaned back into the door for leverage, arms wrapped around his hips and grinding against him with a groan. With a degree of difficulty, Axel tore the packet open to slick his fingers, and Roxas had to wind around him tight to keep himself up.

Impressively, Axel wasn't even faltering, much less buckling under his weight. He did some adjusting and awkward reaching-around to palm his cock, slicking it with lube, before he sought Roxas's entrance.

“You are... incredibly hot...”

Roxas smirked, arms sliding around him tight. “Mm... Thought that's what had you for.”

“Damn right, you have me...” Axel buried his lips against his throat, and curled his finger. Roxas arched with the motion as though Axel had made him do it, moaning low as teeth scraped his tingling pulse point and a tongue traced his jaw. Steadily, Axel thrust against that spot, hitting his prostate too gently to be anything but a tease.

“ _More_ ,” Roxas demanded, unwinding his arms just enough to get a grip in his hair. Axel's hips bucked, and he started working a second finger inside obligingly.

“How do you want it?”

It was with great effort that Roxas managed to form words through his panting. “Want to feel how you're feeling...”

Axel was intense in everything he did, ever. Roxas wanted _that_.

The kisses over his neck were tongue and teeth and heat, two fingers twisting and rubbing hard circles against his g-spot. Roxas shuddered, swearing loud until Axel caught his lips to take those just as wantonly. He only eased off when he started to push a third finger in along the others, overturning Roxas's world with that alone. Blunt nails pressed into Axel's scalp, satisfying rather than painful.

“I want to make you scream... over and over again...” His words were rough but his fingers weren't, massaging Roxas's prostate like he'd been paid to do it. “Hell, never want you to stop, want to make you feel _so good_...”

With a broken moan, Roxas rocked his hips, practically riding his fingers.

“Can I-...” Axel groaned, stretching him as much as he could and knowing damn well he was ready for more. “Tell me when you want...”

“Wanted you as soon as I saw you, don't make me wait.”

“Thank _god_.” Grinning, Axel worked his fingers out and hoisted Roxas higher, getting him right up around his waist. Roxas let him handle their positioning, supporting himself on Axel's shoulders.

It didn't take nearly as much adjusting as either of them thought it would. With one hand free to guide himself inside, Axel stole one last breathless kiss before he let gravity work, grabbing Roxas to keep him still as he sank onto his cock. He relaxed expertly, taking him right inside and feeling like he'd burst from the satisfying wave of warmth.

“Make me scream, Ax.”

The door rattled as Axel rocked his hips up hard, and all Roxas could do was curl around him and take it. He shut his eyes tightly despite himself, and despite _really_ liking the novelty of being higher up than Axel, the thrusts feeling less controlled and rough in a whole new _glorious_ way. There was no steady pace, nothing but hard thrusts and his back against the door and Axel's mouth against his throat.

“Ngh-!”

“You are so... _perfectly_...” Axel exhaled, strained by pleasure more than anything else, and bucked his hips up faster. “Fuck, I want to pound you right up against the wall until your back's all bruised and your legs are numb, and you don't even care 'cause you're coming so hard the neighbors feel it and you still just beg for _more_ , fuck, Roxas...”

There was so much heat, so much _noise_. Roxas was trying to grind up into him and moaning without shame, the door clattering incessantly against the frame, and dirty wanting words left Axel in a constant purr, only half of them making sense. Roxas bit his lip, practically writhing as much as limited movement allowed, and Axel bit down on his shoulder and his head fell back, chest heaving with deep breaths. It hit the door, but he didn't care, couldn't even feel it.

Louder than expected, he moaned, “Axel-... gonna come... more-...”

His tongue traced the marks he just left, voice rough. “Fuck, yes, I want to feel you come...”

That was all he could take. Axel's voice was molten and had a handle on his cock, pushing past its limits. White sprayed over Axel's stomach and Roxas tugged sharply at his hair, his cry ragged and so, so satisfied.

If Axel could've lasted through the way he tightened up, he couldn't when his roots were being pulled too. He spilled into him hard, moaning Roxas's name into his throat, kissing everywhere he could as he rode out the aftershocks.

Slowly, Roxas was let down on shaky legs, but neither one of them let go.

“Axel...” Breathlessly, Roxas pulled him down for a lusty kiss, but couldn't keep it up for long. Still, it was a couple of seconds in which the heavy atmosphere was silent, and no doubt everyone on their floor was thanking them for it.

Practically delirious with afterglow, Axel breathed him in and leaned into Roxas, common sense expelled with his jizz.

“I love you.”

Roxas halted, mood slamming to a stop, and passed it off as catching his breath.

“Sorry,” Axel grinned, still breathless. “Just wanted to say it for the sake of... actually saying it. Felt like I was keeping it secret, that's no good. You don't need to say anything back.”

Anxiety cut a rude swath through Roxas's buzz, and he wasn't even sure if it was because of what Axel said. He pressed flush to the door, suddenly feeling oppressively close. “... Uh, okay. Thanks...”

Easing back from him, Axel slid off the condom and tied it off. “... Want to sit, or something? Stare at the ceiling 'til we recover?”

“I'm good to go again,” Roxas said hastily. “Just-...”

Side-stepping, he breathed a bit too deeply, and Axel started to get that _bad_ _feeling_ again. It'd been such a nice break from the sense of 'I fucked up, god damn it, I fucked up so bad.'

“... Just, I overstepped?”

“No, it's cool,” Roxas denied. “I get it. You're allowed to say it, 'cause you don't expect anything...”

“Seems like you're kinda freaked, though,” Axel stated the obvious, hesitating. “If it's not me... Is it Ansem?”

Maybe... they _had_ moved too fast. Roxas had seemed quite certain that working up a sweat was what he wanted, but Axel really wasn't so sure that'd been smart, now.

He looked reluctant to say. “... This is gonna make me sound crazy, but I kind of forgot it was _you_ saying it, for a second.”

“That's only about as crazy as everything _else_ ,” Axel lifted one shoulder uncertainly. Roxas shrugged, not exactly comforted.

He didn't want to linger on this, and Roxas wasn't going to let Axel linger either. “It's whatever, I'm over it.”

“That seems awfully quick to just be over it,” he observed skeptically.

“It was just a second-long thing. I'm fine. Where's our next target?” Roxas almost stalked away from the door. “I brought three more condoms.”

“No offense, but I'm not feeling it,” Axel sighed, watching him from the doorway. “You're freaked out.”

There was a serious danger of Roxas getting annoyed, now. “Then distract me.”

“It's not that I don't want to...” Stooping for his briefs, Axel began to reorder himself and picked up the various wrappers in his condom-hand. “Just feels like I'm taking advantage. I can't just shrug and fuck you anyway, that's not okay.”

Honestly... their last round, regardless of how incredible it was, was starting to sit less and less well.

Roxas grabbed his boxers off the floor, deciding to redress in them, if Axel was going to put things on ice for... however long. Surely not _that_ long, because god damn it, this was ridiculous. “But I don't care about that. I'm starting to care about you killing the mood.”

“Mood's long-dead.” Axel was starting to look uncomfortable. “It's cool if you don't want to address this, then. I've still got ice cream.”

With a quiet groan, Roxas snatched his jeans off the floor and dragged himself to the kitchen, but didn't actually put them on. He only resisted throwing himself moodily into a chair because hard anal against a door left him a bit tender. Sulking, he watched Axel follow and toss the used condom in the kitchen garbage, washing his hands before going to the freezer.

Alright, if he was being honest... he was more rattled, still, than he'd ever admit. Still, he didn't see why he couldn't just be fucked out of remembering anything unpleasant.

Axel retrieved a couple of ice cream bars, privately debating whether or not he should suck it up and suck it anyway, but concluding pretty quickly that he felt too... not-right, about it. He sat down at the kitchen table and passed Roxas an ice cream bar, eyeing him.

He accepted it, brow creasing. “Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like... _that_ , I don't know.” Roxas unwrapped the ice cream, sucking at it thoughtfully. “Like I'm in a hospital, or something.”

Axel snorted quietly. “I've never visited someone in the hospital, so I'm not sure what the basis for comparison is, there.”

Roxas sighed. “Forget it, then.”

“I'm not trying to be -...” he started, but stopped. With a shrug, Axel tore his ice cream wrapper and resolved himself not to argue. “No, okay. S'forgotten.”

Leaning into the table, Roxas fell silent and concentrated on his dessert. He couldn't remember ever enjoying ice cream less.

“... So...”

Axel was searching for a topic, but Roxas wasn't willing to play through small talk just to diffuse things. He licked his ice cream slowly, letting Axel flounder until he gave up. Elbows hit the table and Axel slid forward, less comfortable by the moment, and now probably a little bruised.

“Well, this blows,” Roxas muttered.

“Yeah...”

Axel started to get up, and Roxas watched, half-convinced he was about to be told to leave. His free hand ducked under the table and gripped his thigh hard to steady himself.

“Wanna put on a movie or something...?”

“Not really,” he replied dully, pretending his fingertips weren’t trying to merge with his leg.

Axel glanced away, lifting his ice cream towards his mouth. “Cool. I'm gonna, anyway... You can join if you want.”

Impulsively, Roxas caught his arm. “Axel, don't.”

He stopped, glancing down in equal parts confusion and exasperation. Truthfully, he'd hoped that if he lounged around the living room to cool off, Roxas would eventually give up and join him. “Want me to stay and be awkward?”

“I just... ugh, if we're not having sex, then I don't want to just walk away and act like it's fine until this comes back and ruins shit again.”

“... I think the only way to prevent that is to talk about it.”

Roxas dropped his head down on the table, grumbling. Quite able to relate, Axel at least tried to make it easier by sitting down again.

“Look at it this way,” he tried. “We talk now, clear out the uncomfortable stuff that makes me feel like a creep taking advantage, and maybe we can have round two.”

Tilting his head against the table, Roxas ceased kissing the Formica. “Assuming the talking doesn't kill all chance of boners for the night.”

“Let's take the risk. Gambling is sexy.”

“You really want to know this stuff? Most of it's boring, I'm warning you.”

“I'd much rather know stuff than not.”

Slowly, Roxas dragged himself upright, and decided to finish off his ice cream while he gathered his thoughts. Axel was slower, on his, watching Roxas and trying not to be too intense about it.

“... I guess I just start from the top. Did Xigbar tell you how me and Ansem met?”

“Nah,” Axel shrugged one shoulder. “I told you what he told me...”

“Hm...” That actually meant he didn't have a good point to jump off of, and Roxas had to use his best judgment as to where 'the top' was. “Might as well start by saying I was in a bad place already, when it started. Mom and Dad had just dropped the bomb on us that they couldn't afford three college tuitions at once, so it was 'bury them in debt' or 'start saving'... You know which one I picked, obviously.” He sighed, feeling like that was too weak of an overview to even start summing up his mental state. “There was more to it, really, but I don't remember it all.”

“Shit,” Axel frowned. “So that's why.”

Avoiding his eyes, Roxas picked at some invisible dirt under his nails. This was actually even more awkward than he'd expected. It'd been... a long time, since he'd talked about anything like this.

“I remember being... tired, mostly. Couldn't see the point to anything, but I didn't quite want to die, either? I could get good marks, work to pay for school, look after my brothers, but it didn't matter to anyone. The only way anyone was going to notice at all is if I _stopped_ doing it.”

Nibbling his ice cream, Axel just nodded. Roxas kind of wished he'd said something, pausing to think.

He hated how... typical, it all sounded.

“I wasn't trying to prove anything by sneaking out, or lying my way into clubs, it was just... a thing I could do. Sleeping with Demyx the first time was the same. He wanted to. I wanted to. That was it. Easy.”

“You know, I have a thing for rebels.”

Roxas laughed weakly. “Don't think it counts unless I was actually rebelling _against_ something.”

“Fair enough.” Axel regarded him. “So... you met Ansem at a club?”

“Yeah...” he drew the pause out a lot longer than he meant to. There was something he _could_ say, but wasn't certain he wanted to. Axel made a prompting gesture with his ice cream, though, and it was among the forefront of his thoughts.

“Okay, look,” he sighed again, giving the nagging thought a voice. “I could never tell Sora this, but I understand a bit more about Riku than he thinks, and... I could have gone the same way he did. Easily. Maybe I would have, if that got to me first. But I got Ansem, instead.”

Axel frowned. He really didn't like the sound of that. Roxas took another moment, kind of coming to grips with the idea that he just admitted to having anything in common with _Riku_.

“He... I don't know, he was interested. At first I figured he just wanted sex, and I was good with that, but when he got me alone, he just talked.”

“... About what?”

“Me,” Roxas replied uncomfortably. “He'd known right away that something was going on in my head... And I was stupid, so at the time I was just impressed that this guy understood me so well. Didn't wonder until way later how he could spot a vulnerable teenager at a glance,” he muttered, almost an aside. Axel grimaced, but bit his tongue.

“But, whatever. It worked. I snuck out and met him again, couple times I even smuggled him into the house. 'Course I had to let someone in on it, so I told Ven he was my boyfriend to get him off my back,” he scoffed bitterly. “He wasn't. I don't think I'd have even called him my friend, if you asked me, but what I had with Ansem seemed like a good deal to me. He took the pressure off, or something.”

Dimly aware of his ice cream becoming goop, Axel put it back in the wrapper. Roxas stared at the table for a good half a minute, but not because he was stalling, this time. He was searching for a way to summarize several months of his life so that Axel would understand.

“... I honestly don't know what he got out of it, but he never made me do anything I didn't want to. Mostly he wanted me to come to his house, or his office, and just... do whatever he wanted that day. Not anything that seemed weird or fetish-y, to me. I can't remember what it all was, exactly.”

“That actually sounds creepier than if it was an obvious fetish thing,” Axel muttered.

Roxas bristled. “Right, well, I know that now, but it was all good with me when it started.” He started to list things off, kind of to justify his own naivete to himself – to Axel, he thought, but he'd gone silent when he realized his words had been interpreted as an attack.

“He liked buying me food I hadn't tried, or showing me old movies, or talking to me about his business and quizzing me to see if I was listening. Whatever he got me to do, he was always interested in hearing what I thought of it. Eventually he got me talking about stuff I liked, things I was good at. One time I was talking about Struggling, and the next time I saw him he'd signed me up for a tournament so he could watch me in action.”

Roxas paused, then, seeing if Axel was about to challenge his justification, but he didn't say anything. After a second, he carried on. “I guess it bugged me a little at the time that he did it without asking, but he said I could back out if I wanted, and... to be honest, I didn't really mind 'cause it meant he wanted to see me doing something that mattered to me.”

Axel wasn't even sure why that bothered him at first, until he remembered the reason they weren't currently having sex was because Roxas wasn't climbing on his dick while reassuring him that he didn't have to get hard. It was a total disregard for boundaries, cornering Roxas with something that he technically wanted enough to not refuse.

Roxas was blushing now, hating having to look back on the way he used to think, and hating admitting it even more. “It was just... easy, I guess. I just had to go over, try something, or show him something, and he was impressed. If I said no, he didn't push too hard, didn't seem mad about it. If I had homework and couldn't hang out, he'd tell me to come over anyway and I could study while he got work done.” He tilted his head back towards the ceiling, reflecting. “I didn't have to be happy around him if I didn't want to. I could be pissed off if that's how I felt, or just not give a shit about anything. That was how it was most of the time...”

“So... Freedom,” Axel summarized. “Sort of.”

“What's what it felt like...”

“What changed? I mean, how'd you know to go?”

Roxas wondered if he should skip to the end and answer his question, but decided to give Axel the chance to get the whole story. “I haven't even gotten to the bad parts yet. But I can cut some stuff, if I'm going on too long.”

His eyebrows flew upwards. “No way, tell me everything. The creepy shit was the _prelude_ to the bad parts?”

“There's more prelude where that came from... And some stuff you're probably not gonna like about me.”

Axel shrugged dismissively. “Maybe I won't, but I'll still like you. Generally speaking. Tell me.”

Inhaling slowly, Roxas mentally found his place in the story. “... After a bit, things started getting more intense. He was buying me more things, practically every time I saw him. Not just like, meals while we were together, but things like books, or music, or clothes. Nothing I got to pick for myself, and that got to me sometimes, but it was all new to me, so mostly I was into it.”

Yeah, already, Axel could see how it was going downhill.

“Once he got me a couple outfits, he started taking me out to clubs and bars.” Roxas cleared his throat. “Actually, that was half my idea. 'Cause any clothes he bought me had to stay at his place so no one would ask questions, and I thought it was stupid to go over and change just for the time I was there if we weren't _doing_ anything.”

Privately, Axel wondered if Roxas had been _led_ to having that idea, but kept quiet about it.

“We didn't do it all the time, but I probably liked it the best of everything we did. The bouncers just let me in, if I was with Ansem. He bought me drinks to see how I handled it, or got me to go out on the dance floor and get people to want me, but none of them could touch me. If the right people were there, he'd take me to sit with them and he'd brag about me and everything I did.”

The disconcerting image of Ansem parading Roxas around like a show dog intrusively butted into Axel's head. Roxas's eyes were back on the table, picking at his fingernails again.

“And I...” he heaved a sigh. “There's no other way to put it. I got _addicted_ to it.”

Axel wanted to grab his hand, but didn't move. “... Huh.”

“It was just so easy to get him to throw a little approval my way,” Roxas spoke faster, now. “I started going out of my way to get a reaction. If he was impressed that I could get through a glass of whiskey no problem, he should see me do _five_ , that kind of thing.”

Recalling the way he’d seen Neku throwing back drinks, Axel interjected without thinking. “He was training you.”

“Yeah, he... made that clear enough after a while. He encouraged me showing off as long as it was something he wanted me to do. But some of it backfired on me pretty bad.”

“How?” Unconsciously, Axel's thumb flicked over his finger in the same motion he used to flick a lighter. “What'd he do?”

“He... I don't know how to put it. Did a one-eighty on his normal reaction, basically.”

Sounded like Saix's jarring mood swings. “Hn...”

“If I got my own ideas to try something, and he liked it, it was fine. If he didn't, he'd take it out on everything I normally enjoyed getting him to say. He'd roll his eyes, or ask why I thought that was a good idea, or call me a kid, or just flat-out ignore me.” Roxas scratched a little harder at the imaginary dirt. “By that point he really, really knew how to get under my skin. We got at each other most about sex, no contest. He gave me signals all the time that he was attracted to me, and I _offered_ like every other week. But he always gave me the 'you're not ready' line. Fuck if I know what he wanted me 'ready' for. I'd had sex before, and it's not like my libido is a _current_ discovery.”

Roxas scowled, and Axel considered his earlier offer of arson more seriously, mirroring the expression. “The more I tried to get him to want me, he'd start tricking me into acting like a dumb kid. The first time I threatened to find someone else to fuck if he didn't, though... that was the first time Ansem actually scared me.

“We were at his place and he started saying shit about like... rooms he had that locked from the outside, and how no one would be coming by his house until the housekeeper on Monday.” Roxas shuddered, almost imperceptibly, but Axel saw it. “I seriously thought I wasn't getting home that night, but I did. And I'd like to say that was the last time I saw him, but it wasn't.”

Axel had gone a little tense. It hit too close to home, reminded him of Saix at his most jealous; the threats to lock him up somewhere, the vicious anger, the very real thought that something horrible would happen and no one would even know.

“But things definitely weren't the same after that,” Roxas continued. “I was pissed off, but pretty sure it had just been a bluff to keep me in line, and that pissed me off more. So, I started saying no more. At the start, nothing he asked me to do really mattered to me one way or the other, and I'd only say no if it bugged me especially. But now I was starting to refuse things I just didn't feel like doing, sometimes even stuff I _wanted_ to do just because I didn't get something I wanted the last time.”

“Which I'm guessing went over _fantastic_.”

Roxas almost smirked. “He definitely wasn't taking 'no' as well as he used to. I don't mean he forced me, or anything, but if I turned down something, he'd get all superior about it, and if that didn't get me to do it he'd sulk until I went home and I wouldn't see him for a week.”

Almost conversationally, Axel stated, “What a despicable sack of shit.”

“It gets better.” He was kind of on a roll with his story, now that he'd laid out so much of it. “He started weaponizing the attention he gave me, made himself a _lot_ harder to please, so if I wanted to feel good, I had to do exactly what he told me, wear what he told me, the whole thing. If I got too mouthy, he'd suddenly just not have enough time for me, until I was sorry enough that he found some again.”

“What a fucking honor.”

“And I started using him back,” Roxas was almost off-handed about it. “Told him things like I wouldn't see him unless he bought me dinner. If he said he couldn't go to a club one night, I'd threaten to go by myself, and let him fill in the rest in his head.”

“Nicely done,” Axel smirked dryly, but it wasn't returned. The backlash was easier to remember than the satisfaction.

“That became everything we were to each other, after a while. All spite and head games. Him trying to mold me into his pet, and me trying to prove he couldn't. Not that I always fought that battle... there were definitely still days I needed what he'd give me for being good and obeying.”

“Like a relapse?” Axel called on his earlier comparison to Riku's drugs.

“You could call it that.” Roxas spoke quieter, almost hoping he wouldn't be heard. “Some days now, I'm not sure I _don't_ still need it.”

He heard perfectly well, but Axel didn't say anything.

“... Anyway, you asked how I knew when to go? It probably should have been everything I just said, but it was still kind of feeling like the ends justified the means, until I started bringing up college. That I'd have to start applying in the next year, where I was thinking of going and what I wanted to do.”

“What'd he do, tell you not to go...?” Axel guessed.

Revulsion made its way into Roxas's voice. “... It was like he was _surprised_ that I was planning to go. Like it hadn't even occurred to him that I had intentions of being an adult and having my own life.”

“... He thinks he can be your entire freakin' world, huh,” Axel muttered.

“So, when I was just as fucking baffled right back at him, he started getting all offended,” Roxas gained momentum, nails digging into his palms. “Like this was me rebelling, trying to hurt him by talking about moving away. Then he started with the insults, trying to make me feel stupid for the schools or the programs I wanted. After that, he changed his tune again, telling me how much money I'd make if I worked for his company right out of high school, and how he'd pull strings so I could get the kind of position he'd want a degree for with just my diploma.”

Axel gaped. “What the _fuck?_ ”

His nails let up on his palms at last to run through his hair. “Wasn't 'til then that it hit me for real that I was supposed to be this guy's _property_ forever. He was going to make sure I had less freedom after I graduated, not more. Even worse, just before this came up, I'd been pretty sure he was starting to hate me, and he'd call things off pretty soon.”

His stomach still clawed at his throat any time he let himself imagine being tethered to a guy who hated him, but still wanted every word obeyed.

“... So... what'd you do?”

Roxas balked. “... You really want to know?”

“I did ask.”

With just a beat of reluctance, he met Axel's eyes. “... I trashed his office.”

Expression mostly unchanged, Axel raised an eyebrow. Roxas's shoulders hunched, a mite sheepish.

“That's where we were talking, and okay, I had kind of a point at the time about how I was just like one of his things that he kept there, and so smashing them proved... something.”

Far too late to hide it, Axel covered a grin with one hand.

“... I _wrecked_ his computer,” Roxas admitted, vaguely proud, and Axel couldn't suppress a snort. A grin worked its way onto Roxas's face, and he maintained it for a few seconds but dropped it in the end.

“So, obviously that ended things. But Ansem made me go through him 'breaking up' with me, pretty much just to give himself the last word. He was going to make me pay for everything I destroyed in his office, but I had a _significant_ amount of blackmail at my disposal by then, so he took back everything he bought for me instead.”

Axel lowered his hand as he spoke, still muffling half the word. “Prick.”

“In conclusion, yeah.”

Considering everything he'd just been told, Axel leaned against the table and gave him an expectant look. “I didn't hear anything that made me not like you. Did you gloss over those parts?”

He rolled his eyes. “You're right, I left out the part where I kicked puppies and laughed.”

“You sick bastard.”

“Anyway, there it is,” Roxas sighed. “Everything to know about my baggage.”

“... It's not all that different from mine. Especially the destruction part,” Axel offered, and paused. “Y'know, it might go without saying, but I'm not... I dunno. I don't think of you any differently.”

Roxas shrugged. “But... do you get what I told you now? Ansem never had anything to do with how I think about dating or...” he lifted his hands, making quotations in the air. “'Love'.”

“Oh, yeah. I believed you.” Axel shot him a look of pseudo-offense. “Way to belittle what's _in my heart_ , though, Rox.”

He kicked Axel under the table... gently.

“Ow. I composed you a sonnet, but you don't get to hear it, now.”

“Oh no, however shall I go on?” Roxas droned.

“Beats me, I can't tell you how to live your life.” Axel picked up the mess that was his ice cream wrapper and rose to toss it, totally oblivious to the twinge that went through Roxas's chest.

He felt like those words were way more significant than they sounded.

“Since I just did a whole fuckton of sharing, can I ask you one thing?”

“You can ask me literally anything. I might not answer, but I probably will.”

“What did _you_ destroy?”

Tossing the gooey wrapper, Axel smirked. “Uh. Just some stuff Saix and I bought together. I put it all in a box, hand-delivered it to the place he was _about_ to start sharing with his boss, and set it on fire. You ever seen a ball gag melt?”

Amused – and, oddly, sort of proud – Roxas grinned. “See? I'd be more worried about the smell.”

“It was fucking terrible,” Axel confirmed, sliding into his chair again. “Really, though, it wasn't even to prove a point. We'd _just_ made the break-up official, it was pure pettiness.”

“Still. Sounds like it was good for the soul.”

“It was. I think,” Axel amended, looking back on it. “Didn't feel good, but it felt like _something_ , and that was a nice change. ... There was some expensive shit in there.”

Roxas nodded, unable to think of anything better to say and doubting more than acknowledgment was needed. Axel considered him.

“... Do you feel better after talking about stuff?”

“Sort of... in that way where I also feel worse.”

Axel nodded pensively. “... Well, the important thing is, _I_ feel better.”

In what was probably the last thing either of them expected him to do, Roxas snorted loudly and started to laugh. He put his head down on the table and just... didn’t stop. Axel stared at him, grinning slowly.

“Hey, I mean it in the sense of 'I don't feel so weird about giving you a good dicking.'”

Red in the face, Roxas raised his head once he'd managed to calm down. “... I'm not freaking out anymore, at least.”

“D'you want sex, then?” Axel offered. “And maybe another ice cream bar? I was kind of too distracted to enjoy mine.”

“Is 'all of the above' an acceptable answer?”

“Hell _yeah_ it is.”

Picking up his jeans from where they'd been churlishly left on the floor, Roxas started to remove his sex stash. “Hey, d'you think Demyx would notice if we went for round two on the table?”

Axel smirked. “Who cares?”

“Like the way you think.”

Leaning over the table, Axel kissed him quickly and flicked his tongue teasingly over Roxas's before he pulled away. “My brilliance is part of my charm.”

“Mm... Charm. Right.”

“I have _some_ charm,” he claimed, going to the freezer.

“You've got your words wrong. That's not 'charm'.”

“What word would you use?”

“I dunno. Perversion?” Roxas suggested, putting down four condoms. Turned out he'd been wrong, and he'd stashed more than he thought. Good job, Roxas-of-several-hours-ago.

Axel mulled that over with the freezer still open, then grabbed two more ice cream bars from the open box. “Nah. It's charm,” he decided, and opened one of the ice cream wrappers. He stuck it in his mouth before going to offer Roxas the other.

To his mild indignation, Roxas accepted it, then reached for the stick in Axel's mouth at well. He pried it from his lips, licking all the way up the bar, and looked like he had no intention of giving it back.

“Don't even think about it.”

Roxas licked it again more purposefully, then leaned up to kiss him. Effectively distracted, Axel gave his mouth a very thorough taste and smirked against his lips.

Sea salt and sexy guy. A winning combination. Roxas seemed to think so, too, pressing it deeper without any intention of breaking for air.

Axel wasn't so distracted that he forgot that Roxas was a _thief_ , though. He made a grab for his ice cream, and Roxas made a very poor attempt at keeping it out of reach before relinquishing it to its rightful consumer. Stealing it back, Axel leaned against the table with a shake of his head.

For shame. He invited Roxas into _his_ house, gave him _his_ ice cream...

... But he was damn good-looking, he'd give him that.

Tilting his head back, Axel practically deep-throated his ice cream in an incredibly shameless display, raising Roxas's eyebrows in equal parts intrigue and disbelief. Anything he might've said was interrupted, though, as the ice cream bar was slowly drawn through Axel's lips before they descended, sticky-sweet, on Roxas's.

“Mm...”

Unoccupied hand holding the back of Axel's neck, he slid forward in his seat and ran his greedy tongue over sugar. His ice cream bar was starting to melt already, but it was really hard to care, and Axel had just accidentally dropped his on the floor so he had a one-up on him there.

That was going to be so annoying to clean up, later. Sure, Axel could do it _now_ , but he was _busy_.

“Should I grab the lube?” Axel broke the kiss, a little bit breathless and only the tiniest bit chagrined over the loss of his dessert.

“Mm, yeah,” Roxas hummed, and put his ice cream bar in his mouth, sucking deeply. Axel made a very undignified noise.

“I didn't even know I could _get_ hard that fast.”

Snickering, Roxas slid the bar back out of his mouth. “I'm talented.”

Flipping him off, Axel went questing towards the bedroom for the well-loved bottle of lube, and Roxas rapidly worked on finishing his ice cream. He kind of doubted he'd get the chance to, once they started again, and it'd be shame to waste _another_ one. Sea salt ice cream was worth its weight in gold.

Axel returned looking way better than he had when he left, mostly because he'd somehow lost his briefs along the way. Blatantly, Roxas watched him walk in, starting to wiggle out of his own boxers.

“Are you checking me out?” Axel smirked. “That's _shocking_.”

“I can tell you're really offended,” Roxas licked the remains of his ice cream, discarding the stick... somewhere, probably in the rough vicinity of 'the floor'.

“I'm not a piece of meat to be ogled,” Axel protested, setting the bottle on the table and kissing Roxas firmly. As though to disprove his stance on being objectified, Roxas leaned back in his chair and slid his hand between them, wrapping around Axel's erection. He moaned, resolve weak to the touch, and Roxas squeezed gently with a smug, muffled snicker.

Cocky bastard. If Axel wasn't busy bucking into his hand, he'd be giving him such a telling off, rest assured. Roxas's tongue traced the back of his teeth, stroking him without teasing. As much as Axel probably needed to brace himself against the table, he was more inclined to run his hands along Roxas's chest, and that was way more worthwhile.

With a lot of lingering, Roxas broke away from the kiss. “Gotta get out of this chair... p'sition's never gonna work...”

“Your celebration, you make the rules,” Axel exhaled, turning to lean back against the table instead. Wedging him between the table and his own body, Roxas lifted the hand he'd been holding his ice cream in to show the drying drip along his index finger. Happily sadistic, he drew his tongue over it languidly, giving his fingers a very thorough cleaning while Axel watched.

“Tease. You're cruel, you know that?”

“ _Mm_...” Roxas took two fingers into his mouth to suck.

Axel narrowed his eyes, which were utterly betraying him with his pupils blown wide. “ _Really_ cruel.”

Lips curling, Roxas dragged the fingers out and grinned. He kissed Axel firmly, insistently dominating, and was met with only enough resistance to make him work for it. Axel was melting into it pretty fast, fond of this side of him, but thought of a last-ditch way to fight back. Seizing Roxas's hips, he pulled them flush to his own and was rewarded with a rough groan.

“ _Mn_...” Lifting one leg to press close to the table, Roxas pinned him down. Victory was swiftly stolen out from under Axel, and he was totally okay with it. Hands roving down his sides, Roxas murmured against his lips, “How d'you want to do this?”

Axel took the opportunity to catch his breath, giving his ass a light squeeze. “I _was_ hoping fucking would be involved, and that's about as much thought as my boner's capable of.”

“Creative.” Roxas pressed against him harder, one hand gliding down to wrap around them both. Axel's erection met the solid smoothness of Roxas's, and fingers spread wide to stroke them briefly.

“I, ngh... Orgasms were also in the plan...”

Almost rolling his eyes, Roxas rocked his hips into Axel and his own hand. “Ah-...nh...”

“And that, I like that,” Axel caught his lips again briefly, purring. “Lots of moaning.”

“That's a given,” Roxas grinned, blindly looking for the lube. While he searched and stroked them, Axel involved himself entirely with darkening a fresh mark he'd left, and Roxas almost mewled at the hot prickle of sensitive nerves.

Finding the bottle, he popped the cap and put a little on his hand, stroking them both with more ease and vigor. Legs spreading wide, Axel gave him all the access he wanted and growled against his throat.

“Fuck, Rox...”

It was starting to get _really good_. So, naturally, Roxas's hand retreated, decision made, and Axel groaned this time in protest.

“Turn around.”

 _Oh_ , that was okay then. “Ngh, thank god.”

Roxas plucked a condom off the table, getting it open while Axel positioned himself with his elbows resting against the table. Yet again, they were displaying terrible table etiquette, but high society would surely find a way to forgive him. He glanced over his shoulder, catching Roxas's eye with a smirk.

The condom was rolled on hastily, and Roxas almost moaned. That was a _really_ good look. He liked that expression a lot and thought Axel should wear it all the time. One hand trailed down his back, leaning over him to press a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“Mm...” Axel's eyes closed. “Was honestly worried you'd leave me hanging, for a second there. You're just so damn mean to me.”

That would have been more convincing if Axel wasn't practically purring. Roxas worked on slicking his fingers, lips still against his skin.

“I'd at least make you suck me off, if I did that,” he assured him, and pushed one inside. It was hard to tell if Axel shuddered at the thought or the sensation, because really, he liked both.

“ _Fuck_...”

Both of them had very limited patience. Axel's hips angled themselves higher, pressing back onto him, and Roxas barely resisted rubbing himself off against his ass to work his finger in deeper. It curled, knowing what he wanted to find, and Axel arched with a hiss.

“That's perfect... Shit, keep doing that...”

His voice was pure heat when it was so wanting, and the fact that it was still a little roughened from round one didn't hurt at all. Kisses dappled from Axel's shoulder to the back of his neck, pressed right up close until Roxas wanted to move things along. A second finger teased the tight ring of muscle, and Axel's head tilted forward, robbed of his ability to hold himself up.

“ _Rox_...”

Other hand sliding under Axel's hips to hold him, Roxas held onto his patience by a thread and all but attacked his throat, both fingers striking his prostate.

“Fuck-...” Breathing harder, Axel tilted his head, exposing as much as his neck as possible because teeth were _good_. “Fuck, Rox, yes...”

“'Nother?” Roxas urged more than asked, stretching out the two fingers inside.

“Yeah... Don't even need to ask, you know I'm a bit of a masochist,” Axel shivered, and was rewarded with a sharp nip and a groan. The third slick finger worked him open faster, stretching him wide enough to take his cock. Groaning, Axel rested his head against his arms, breath hitching with every brush against his g-spot.

“Fuck, Axel, you're so hot like this...”

He smirked into his forearm, rocking against his fingers. “Do something about it.”

“You got it,” Roxas breathed, thrusting all three against his prostate _hard_ before he slid them out. Axel's voice caught mid-groan.

“Mother _fuck_ , yes...”

Lifting his hips a little, Roxas ran his lubed hand over his cock and thrust himself inside, sinking in to the hilt. Axel exhaled, hissing his name in obvious approval, and it was all he could do to keep himself together despite the titillating _heat_.

Roxas's forehead rested between his shoulders, catching his breath. As badly as Axel wanted to kiss him, or touch him, the position didn't exactly allow for it, so he pressed himself back against Roxas instead.

This wasn't going to last as long. Neither one minded. Roxas moved at a pace he could get off to, as fast and hard as prior experience told him Axel could take, reaching to stroke his cock off-rhythm. All Axel could do was grip the edge of the table, keeping still and letting himself get _fucked_ , groaning as loud as he wanted as pleasure surged under his skin.

There were teeth digging against his neck again, and the first glimpses of his orgasm sparked under the pressure.

“ _God_ , Rox, I can't last -”

“Mn, yeah,” his mouth dragged up towards the back of his neck again, stroking hand starting to match the pace of his hips, and suddenly the blissful encompassing heat of Axel's body was way too fucking much. “Axel -”

The brink shattered to pieces and the floodgates dropped, climax wracking his entire body this time. Maybe it was because it was his second orgasm in such a short span, but every single nerve seemed to be in on it, and Axel's experience wasn't any different. He shut his eyes so tight he saw red, then white, moaning Roxas's name in response to his own and making one hell of a mess against the tabletop. Roxas sank against his back, shivering a little, and Axel panted until he thought he remembered how words worked.

“... Good,” he purred, hazy. He didn't actually manage more, so maybe the words thing was a work in process.

“Yeah,” Roxas exhaled, relaxed. Pretty much all his weight was against Axel, and he rested against his arms. He'd tell him to move in a bit, once his human blanket stopped feeling nice.

“You're seriously... so hot,” Axel praised, getting his breathing _slowly_ under control. Roxas made a pleased sound.

“Could fuckin'... stay here all day if I wasn't about to collapse...”

“Yeah... Bed?” he suggested.

“Mmn.”

It took them both another moment to stand, Roxas stretching and laughing at Axel's rather pitiful attempt to turn around. He was like weirdly-proportioned giraffe, figuring out for the first time how to use its front legs... though, in his defense, his front legs were arms, and they'd gone kind of numb.

“Need help?” Roxas snickered.

“Nah... Just need a second,” Axel arched his back and found his footing, pushing himself up. Self-satisfied, Roxas grinned.

“Did I mess you up that much?”

“You kidding? I want round three.”

“Good,” Roxas grinned, and took the lube on his way to the bedroom. Axel considered the state of the kitchen, took the condoms instead of cleaning up, and followed.

The bed was the most inviting thing either of them had ever seen, including even the most pleasant of welcome mats. Sinking onto it, Roxas stretched out with a quiet sound of delight, shameless in the face of his muscles' reprieve. After closing the door, Axel dropped onto the mattress beside him.

“We're gonna need one hell of a shower, after all this... and the likelihood of us _not_ getting off when we bother doin' it is low...”

“We're way too good for that,” Roxas agreed, still a little uneven with exertion.

“Damn straight we are,” Axel purred, dropping a kiss on his shoulder, and was met with a proper one as Roxas languidly rolled over. He draped his arm loosely over Roxas's waist, and the two of them shifted closer at half an inch per minute. They were happy to be caught up in this, kissing until their lips started to tingle.

The tingling-lips thing was the only reason Axel stopped, figuring they should take a quick break before someone went numb. “I never stop wanting you...”

Roxas went faintly pink. “It's a wonder we get anything done.”

“Almost wonder why we bother,” Axel commented, lips brushing his blushing cheek because that was just goddamn adorable. “This is more worthwhile.”

Grinning, Roxas turned to meet his lips once more and lingered over them, slow and lazy. Their brief pause had helped them regain some feeling, and they shifted to get properly tangled in each other. One hand drifting up to straighten Axel's spikes, another skimmed Roxas's leg and encouraged him to settle on top. Both of Roxas's hands settled in his hair, getting comfortable and moaning almost sleepily. Axel grinned when he lifted his head to breathe in deep.

“I'm pretty comfortable like this,” he murmured, practically nuzzling Roxas's jaw. He tilted his head to give Axel plenty of space, gently pulling his hair when he started to kiss his way up his jaw, and drew a reflexive moan out of him.

As lazy as they were, arousal was already stirring between them. To encourage it, Roxas kissed him again and closed his eyes, dragging his hips over Axel's smoothly and mumbling his name. His nails combed through red hair, and his back met the mattress with one gentle push. Settling over him comfortably, Axel deepened the kiss and ran one hand down to his cock, finding out first-hand how quickly he'd bounced back.

Pretty fuckin' fast, though he did admit to himself that they'd probably spent longer making out than he'd realized.

Moaning, Roxas arched into his hand. “Ax...”

“You're so gorgeous when you look like you've done nothing but fuck for the past two straight hours,” Axel breathed, lips ghosting along his neck up to his earlobe. Roxas shuddered.

“Haven't I?”

“Nah, we had that one talking break... and I'm not sure it's been two hours, yet...” Grinning, Axel's fingers drifted up and down his thigh.

“Feels like it... Wanna go for two hours?”

“I dunno, we're slowing down,” Axel teased, sounding like he was thinking it over. Lifting his knees, Roxas spread his legs farther apart to flank him, scraping his nails up his back. Axel purred, hand putting a little more pressure against his thigh. “But not stopped, apparently?”

“Gotta beat our record, right?”

“Go until we pass out?” Axel's hand wrapped around his cock, and even though Roxas was shaking, he'd developed an eager glint in his eye.

“'Til _you_ pass out,” he challenged, then moaned. Axel smirked, nipping his marked-up throat.

“We'll see about that...”

Gently, he started to stroke him, and Roxas's hips moved in tandem with his hand, unhurried and inconsistent. His body was almost at the point of exhaustion but had enough fortitude left to go one more round. Their lips met again, and Roxas was getting hard again, only having been partway there a moment ago.

It was kind of amazing he actually had it in him, what with the sleep deprivation. He'd give himself a pat on the back, later, but for the time being he rewarded himself by pushing himself up into the kiss. Axel matched the pressure, thumb running over the head, and Roxas nipped his lower lip to retaliate against the pleasurable assault.

Hands roamed over Axel's body, never any less admiring, and it must have encouraged Axel to go faster. His lips parted, allowing Roxas to do all he pleased as he stroked him faster.

“Mm-...ngh...”

Arousal was overtaking tiredness. Roxas dominated the kiss, tasting Axel to his libido's content, before forcefully pulling back. His cock was aching under the ministrations, but it felt so _promising_ , so sensitive in ways he couldn't remember ever getting used to.

“Can't go slow anymore... I won't last...”

“Ngh, yeah, I don't want you to...” His hand picked up speed, and Roxas choked on his breath.

“Want more...”

“Again?” Axel raised an eyebrow, breathless.

“Can pass out right after,” Roxas urged him. Axel almost laughed, and picked up the lube.

“Insatiable.”

“That's what you signed up for,” he reached for Axel's cock, glancing up with a devious smile and darker circles under his eyes. Responsive as ever, the length twitched and hardened in Roxas's hand.

“Yeah, I did... Best decision I've ever made...” Axel shivered with a sudden burst of energy, prompted by pleasure and opening the bottle. “Spread this on me?”

With an affirmative noise, Roxas found another one of the condoms and got it on Axel's stiffening cock with very little trouble, and anyone who claimed his coordination had suffered enough to make his first attempt fail couldn't prove it. He slicked his hand once the thin layer of latex was on, pumping him like he was going to finish this with a handjob.

“Yeah, that's good,” Axel's breath caught mid-sentence. It didn't take very much to get him just as hard as Roxas was, and likewise, he was so sensitive from before that he was buzzing. “Little more... God...”

“Want you so much, Ax...” Roxas clutched his back with his other hand, leaving shallow little crescents against his skin, making him groan.

“Share the sentiment... Need you, now...”

Sinking back into the mattress, Roxas's legs practically fell open as Axel pressed himself inside, buried deep inside his already-stretched ass. His head fell back, crying out as the solid length dragged over nerves, filling him up perfectly.

Nothing was prolonged. They were so beyond working up to it or drawing it out, at this point. Axel moved into him hard, both of them numb to discomfort and only feeling their bodies meeting – they were both sore but it felt so damn good, and the thrusts were shallow but all the better for it because he was aiming to fuck against Roxas's prostate.

If round one was loud, round three was deafening. Roxas let go of any and all control over his volume, swearing nonstop, vulgar lyrics against a backdrop of unending, musical moans. Axel groaned with every breath, praising Roxas and his body every time he thought he'd regained the power of diction, and was drawn right to the edge so much sooner than he'd ever been in his life.

“Shit-...”

“Nn-... N-not gonna last l-long...” Roxas stuttered, voice dipped by the rocking of their bodies.

“I'd be fucking _stunned_ if you did...”

Axel's hands were surprisingly gentle against his abused ass, taking it easy on all the nerves that needed it the least. Another cry escaped Roxas's throat, arms slinging over the back to Axel's neck – he wanted to be totally wrapped up in and around him, he wanted to _come_...

It was all too much. Roxas brought Axel's neck down to a level he could reach and bit down to stifle himself, clamping down around him with a strangled shout. There was no possible way _not_ to spill into him, at that, pleasure shocking him and it was _too much_ but just enough, exactly enough.

The afterglow left behind was unlike any, and they both dropped against the bed with worn-out voices and aching bodies. In a way that might sound weird if he had to explain it, Roxas felt like he'd just been tortured, but in a really good, cathartic way. His nerves were vibrating, and that was about all he could feel of himself.

“Seriously,” he mumbled, head spinning in the best way. “How are we not dead?”

“Good karma,” Axel rumbled, attaching to his collarbone and sucking with all the strength of a decade-old vacuum.

“Can't be that,” Roxas snorted. “What have we done to earn that?”

“We have good sex. Sex repays us with longevity.”

“I'll accept that answer.” His head sank against Axel's pillow. Blinking very slowly, he watched a tied-off condom fly over his head towards the trash can. He hoped Axel somehow had managed not to miss, because that was just gross.

“I want to shower...” Axel murmured. “But my junk hurts.”

“My everything hurts...”

“Bet your ass is on the verge of going on strike.”

“Well, my ass isn't unionized, so it can deal.”

With somewhat less dignity than royalty, Axel snorted. “... Should we, like... shower?”

That sounded like so much _work_. Roxas tried to shrug, but the aforementioned aching 'everything' protested. “I won't judge you if you smell.”

“I was more concerned about stickiness,” Axel started to say, but interrupted himself with a yawn.

“If I can stand, I'll go shower.”

Stretching out, Axel put forth all the effort he felt he was capable of into moving off him. So, none at all. “Guh.”

“I rest my case.”

“Yeah, let's do that later...”

Roxas grunted. “You could still get off me...”

“Nah.”

Okay, that was fair. “Eh. Fine.”

“You're a terrible mattress, but you're _my_ terrible mattress,” Axel crooned. Roxas tried to roll over without any strength, and was assisted, sort of.

“ _Ugh_.”

“M'just gonna recover for a minute,” Axel sank against him, effectively preventing him from escaping his arms.

“Yeah. If you pass out of me, it's cool, though.”

“And if not, round four?”

“Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

“I'd be very gentle,” Axel yawned into Roxas's collarbone. “I would... caress your dick...”

“How romantic,” Roxas said in monotone. “You're falling asleep.”

“Slander...”

“Either that or you're trying to eat my shoulder and doing a terrible job.”

“But I'm trying my best.”

Closing his eyes, Roxas basked in the giddy sort of amusement only ever experienced by super tired people. “You get nothing 'til I see results.”

Axel grumbled something that was maybe mostly words. After falling quiet for several minutes (to be honest, Roxas may have drifted off for a few of them) he broke the silence.

“Hey, Axel... you awake?”

The sound he made might have been a response... or a snore.

Roxas jostled his shoulder. “Axel?”

“M' _wake_...”

He felt a little bit bad for that, but there was no better time to do this, with all his shame gone. “Wanna ask something...”

Unwillingly conscious though he may have been, Axel was no more articulate for it. He hummed into Roxas's collarbone.

“If I wanted to keep you around for a bit... What'd that be like?”

“Like this,” Axel mumbled sleepily.

“Just like this?”

“More sex toys,” he hummed again, eyes still closed. “Maybe the 'ccasional threesome... S'metimes lots of complaining about school.”

A tired, partial grin crept over Roxas's face. “Don't think I could stop myself from wanting to sleep around, still... but I wouldn't hate it if I kept it to threesomes.”

“Cool,” Axel purred. “Bring me home hot ones.”

“I'm insulted you think you have to _tell_ me that.”

“Y'r right. My bad.”

“Honestly...” Roxas let his own eyes drift shut again.

“Punish me later.”

“Mm.” He stretched a little, shifting just enough to get comfortable underneath half Axel's body again. “That's all I wanted to know. You can go back to sleep.”

“I was awake.”

“Sure you were,” Roxas snorted, and could almost feel Axel falling asleep again in seconds. Idly, his fingers combed through his hair, thinking over what it'd be like to spend more nights like this. Maybe with an extra person taking up mattress space, but he wouldn't hate that at _all_.

He drifted off to pleasant thoughts, hand falling over Axel's rested face.


	25. The Scientific Method

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! Stud and Muffin were both sick, hence the belated update. But HEY! ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER AND WE GET A NEW TAG. NIFTY, HUH.

Privately, Demyx had declared today's date the pivotal five-and-a-half month anniversary. He still didn't have a great gauge for their first date, but when he'd woken up to warm weather and a song in his heart, it seemed like the proper occasion to splurge. Spring just _did_ that to him, anyway, and summer was practically around the corner.

Things had generally been going pretty damn swimmingly. Axel was a lot easier to live with and had been for months, which Demyx probably could have deduced had something to do with Roxas if he'd put his mind to it. He often came home to find the two of them on the couch with video game controllers in hand, or experimentally combining the contents of numerous Chinese take-out platters, or three-fifths of the way through rough sex on the hallway floor. 'Home' was a place to store his stuff and go on at length about Zexion, and maybe sometimes do laundry.

Mostly, he'd been taking advantage of the nice weather to busk on the street, and finally talked his way into renting some recording equipment for cheap. His first album was in the works, and Demyx was counting down the days until he thought he could justify quitting barista work. Zexion had gently suggested he hang onto the job, just in case, but surely the first album would net him a cool million and he could start working on his retirement.

And – of _course_ – there was the highlight of it all. Zexion was officially the longest relationship he'd ever had. Granted, that could have been said around the one-week mark, allowing six days for sheer generosity. Things were going _great_ , if kind of... same-y.

Same-y was good. Demyx was not actually a very adaptable person. Things were comfortable and predictable and that was exactly what he wanted. There'd been 'that one time' he'd gotten really personal with Zexion's dangly organs, and sweet dreams of that time kept him warm on the hard, lonely nights. Sex hadn't been brought up again, though, so he was content to jerk off to that detailed memory and work himself up over romantic milestones.

Five-and-a-half was a big one. Anyone would surely agree.

He'd made a reservation at the most ritzy restaurant within busing distance of HBU, the timing of which was maybe a little weird (way too late for lunch but kind of early for dinner), and swept Zexion off after class. Since he didn't know whether or not he'd care for flowers and he _knew_ chocolate was only a sparingly-enjoyed decadence, Demyx had presented Zexion with some cool rocks he thought looked like fossils instead. They were accepted without Zexion having a clue as to the context – he'd stopped being curious about _why_ Demyx sometimes did things like this and was just happy to accept the benefits – and appreciated in the spirit they were intended. That was how Demyx would've known it was true love, if he hadn't figured that out _ages_ ago.

After their wining and dining (without wine because alcohol was a cognitive inhibitor) they went back to Zexion's, which was so much better than Demyx's apartment complex because there was a _pool_. The trip back had taken the customary thirty minutes to digest, so they could totally go swimming while it was still early enough that the communal area was still basically unoccupied.

Before Demyx, Zexion had never used any of the apartment amenities but the laundry room. He was still kind of squeamish about sharing water with so many bodies at once, but he didn't have to actually do much swimming. Half the time, he'd just tread water and mentally rattle off potential bacteria he could be coming into contact with, and the rest would be spent more favorably. Watching Demyx show off was mostly the point, and he'd sit on the edge to observe him doing laps under the water without coming up for air.

One of them was starting to think that maybe it was time to go, though, and it surprisingly wasn't Zexion. Swimming wasn't a very thought-provoking process, and Demyx's mind had started to wander to wet bodies, the drag of water over skin as he dove through it, wondering what pool sex would be like if there weren't security cameras and a couple of middle-aged ladies doing water aerobics in the shallow end...

Surfacing right in front of Zexion, Demyx smoothed wet hair back and gazed up at his boyfriend's crotch. It was... right there, at eye level. That so wasn't helping the embarrassing situation potentially about to arise.

“Are you bored?”

Looking down at his soaking wet paramour between his knees, all Zexion felt was fondness over his unabashed eagerness. “No. I'm watching you,” he answered, with the smallest of grins. Anyone who hadn't spent many hours gazing at his face probably wouldn't have noticed it, but Demyx had and did. Pleased, he rested his cheek briefly against Zexion's knee.

“We can go, though, I'm kinda swimmed out,” he suggested. A total lie. He _never tired of swimming_.

“If you're ready to go, I am.”

One of Zexion's hands pushed wet bangs aside and ran over his hair smoothly, which was the best sensation ever. Demyx hummed contentedly before drawing his head up. “Cool. Let's go. Um... Where'd we put towels?”

“I'll get them.” Zexion slid his legs out of the water and under himself to stand, turning around to get the tidy stack of towels they brought down. He had to adjust his swimsuit over his hips, as he went – he'd bought a new one out of necessity several months back, after discovering that his childhood trunks had magically ceased to fit. He'd still misjudged on the size of the ones he needed, though.

As they clung to his hipbones precariously, Demyx swallowed a squeak and stared after him with growing interest from his half-hard dick. It was very distressing.

He hoisted himself out of the pool and quickly sat on the edge, hiding his boner like a pro. With an inquisitive look, Zexion handed him a towel, the other draped on his air-dried shoulders.

“Here.”

“Thanks...” Demyx gave a quick rub to his hair. Had to be thorough, couldn't leave a _river_ in his wake, but had to be quick lest someone see...

Oh, fuck. _Everyone_ would see, when he got up to dry off.

There was really only one thing he could do. Demyx got to his feet, and just... held the towel, draped in front of his lap. Zexion's brow creased in confusion.

“'Kay, let's go,” Demyx declared, sunny and ignorant to the attention he'd just drawn to his crotch-hiding instead.

“Yes...” Slowly, Zexion diverted his gaze to grab his keys out of the little public locker. Otherwise totally cheerful and not at all unusual, Demyx followed him with his towel held in front and a trail of drips in his wake.

It really had to be addressed before they reached the elevator. Zexion halted him before leaving the pool area.

“Are you... going to dry off any more than that?”

“Huh – oh,” Demyx flushed. “Um. No.”

“You'll track water on the floor,” Zexion pointed out, perplexed.

“Uhh... I'm cleaning it?”

As chlorinated water didn't actually do much for cleaning when it was left to dry, Zexion doubted that. He tried to make sense of him, inquiring, “Is something the matter with your towel? You can use mine if you don't mind it being a little damp.”

He squeaked. “What? No, my towel's okay...”

Dang it. He had no choice. His blush spread as he reluctantly toweled off, and Zexion turned away without glancing down. He was satisfied, even though Demyx's behavior was still beyond comprehension.

The towel was repositioned for modesty again after the speediest rub-down ever, and the elevator was mercifully prompt. There was one hell of a bite to the air conditioning in their little vertical-moving box, though, and Zexion had to resort to drawing the damp towel around his chest for cover.

Perky nipples. Those sure were a thing Demyx glimpsed.

“Want me to be a human blanket?” he offered with an awkward laugh, only half-serious. Zexion gave him a small smirk.

“Maybe when we're both dry.”

“Heh, good idea...” Demyx went deeper red, flustered by the promises of sordid cuddling, and now Zexion was starting to wonder if there was cause for concern.

“... Are you feeling alright?”

“Huh? I feel great! I always feel great with you – I mean, not-physically, but I also only hang out with you when I'm physically feeling good and not sick, so I don't expose you to germs.”

In anticipation of further rambling, Zexion cut him off evenly. “You also babble when you're nervous.”

“I'm just answering your question! No babbling.”

Zexion crossed his arms. It was kind of hard to tell, under the towel, but the effect was vaguely like a wizened king of some sort regarding the peasantry. Very few people could pull that off. Demyx laughed weakly, and followed him out of the elevator with increasing nervousness. Neither of them were talking, and that was just a nightmare of a situation to be in. After all, Zexion could be thinking _anything_ – he was _very_ smart.

Unlocking the door, Zexion considered dismissing his line of questioning, the odd behavior leading him to believe that Demyx might be either coming down with something he didn't want to admit to, or done something he felt guilty about.

“So... Um... Could I use your bathroom for a bit...? Not for pooping!” Demyx added, alarmed, when Zexion's unspoken question crossed his face. The assurance really just made him deepen the _look_.

“... Alright...”

“I just, um, need to... Uh...”

Demyx started to edge towards the bathroom. Zexion's eyes finally flickered down.

 _Oh_. He hadn't thought of that. Silly – it seemed obvious, in hindsight.

“Ah.”

“I'm _sorry_...” Demyx looked deeply embarrassed, inspiring pity among more confusion.

“Why didn't you say anything...?”

He was hesitant to even answer. Was there a simple way to tell someone that their last sexual encounter popped into his head once or twice a day, minimum? That his pulse picked up whenever he saw more of Zexion's skin than he typically displayed? That he was scared that those things meant he might love Zexion's _body_ more than his... everything else? That saying it aloud might be interpreted that way, even if it wasn't true? “I thought... I didn't wanna seem all sex-crazed.”

Zexion blinked. “I assumed you would have brought it up if you were still interested.”

“I'm really interested...” Staring briefly, Demyx tilted his head. “I was waiting for _you_ to say.”

By that point, Zexion's smooth cheeks had taken on a tinge of their own. They were one of those _matching_ couples, now. “It... slipped my mind,” he explained stiffly.

“... _Oh!_ I thought... I figured you just weren't interested in stuff.”

“It isn't that I'm disinterested...” Zexion wasn't certain that was true even as he said it. He supposed it was more a general lack of interest, though, rather than _disinterest_ ; the legitimacy of his statement held up.

“But, do you _want_ to?”

“If you want to, I do,” he replied frankly, which was on-par with a husky baritone against Demyx's ear for the affect it had on his libido.

“... Whoa,” Demyx breathed. “I... Cool, okay, yeah.”

“Although I'd like to dry off first... or possibly shower.”

“Yeah! We should probably shower... Chlorine tastes gross...”

Zexion nodded cordially. “You're welcome to use the shower first.”

They were going to touch all up on each other, after, but Zexion was still going to let Demyx be nude in _private_. That was actually for the best, since Demyx was pretty sure that he'd still need to masturbate real quick just to give himself some stamina. It'd be the actual worst to just pop off at a touch, or something.

Luckily he had his dear friend, Image of Zexion in Pleasure Throes (more of a title than a name), to get that dealt with quick.

Demyx made off to the shower, and Zexion took the time to ruminate on the whole sex thing. If he thought ahead to the two of them actually engaging in... acts, he'd have probably been hit with that unfamiliar anxiety that came with not knowing what he was doing. It was his own interest in sex that occupied his brain, and his uncertainty over how to define it.

For one thing, he'd forgotten that a libido was not a gas tank. Arousal wasn't burned up by sex, to be stocked up on some convenient time later. Zexion had once again neglected to even think about it, was all... but, now that he _was_...

There was a lot about sex that could be undesirable. For instance, he wasn't a fan of sticky substances. Germs, either. He couldn't remember, now, how strongly those factors had affected his opinion of sex.

He did remember that he liked it. Just, not how much, or... even why, really. The conclusion he'd walked away with was that he'd be willing to do it again, so what did that _make_ him? Did he still count as 'asexual'?

For clarity's sake, Zexion was the type of person who liked labels. A neat definition created a sense of safety, a zone to work within. It was definitely for the best that this had been brought up now, he thought, so he could run a proper experiment with these concerns in mind.

He'd use their time in the shower to figure out the best way to go about it.

 

* * *

 

The shower proved a very good place to think, for Zexion. The bedroom proved a terrible place to think, for Demyx.

Getting dressed just seemed silly, when they were going to be touching each other in _places_ afterwards. So he didn't bother. Being naked, a good step one.

Step two was a little more ambiguous. How exactly was he supposed to wait for Zexion? If he were the type to get a kink out of it – _kick_ out of it, not kink, bad brain – Demyx would have positioned himself all sexy. Maybe in a good 'take me, I'm yours' position, unless it was supposed to be the other way around, in which case... Hm, he wasn't actually sure how to strike a good 'you're mine, let me take you' pose. That felt so demanding, anyway. Not his style.

So, maybe he didn't have to be seductive, but... surely he should do something. He couldn't just _sit_. It'd be so awkward.

He wound up stretched on Zexion's bed, propped up on his arms in an attempt to look either suave or casual. He achieved neither. The bedroom door opened, and Zexion's expression immediately shifted to one of piercing thought to polite bewilderment.

“Hi!” Demyx sat up more. “You look nice!”

As Zexion looked down at himself, even more perplexed, it dawned on Demyx that his compliment might've fallen a little short. He _did_ look nice in a towel, that wasn't a lie. But, yeah, maybe not the greatest line.

Not sure what the proper response was, Zexion hesitated, “Er, so do you...”

Demyx reddened. Enough of _that_ , then. “So, how do you wanna...?”

“Well...” Zexion cleared his throat. “If it doesn't bother you, I've been considering including another element that we didn't have last time. I feel dense for not thinking of it before, actually...”

“Yeah! Whatever you want,” Demyx sat up like a normal person, looking expectant. _Did_ Zexion have a secret kink, then?! Whatever it was, he'd do it. He didn't care if it was weird.

Distinctly pleased, Zexion went to his desk to retrieve the thin stack left on the printer. He'd run off several copies of the observation template usually used for labs just before taking his shower, and expected he wouldn't need more than five sheets. He grabbed a pen from the tidy holder by his monitor and turned back to the bed.

Demyx looked downright quizzical.

“To aid in my understanding...”

“You wanna... do homework?” Demyx finished, determined to puzzle it out.

“This isn't homework,” he corrected, looking down at the pages. “I want to conduct a proper experiment. Well – I say proper, but it isn't really... This is hardly a controlled environment, and my order of operations is practically an unknown...”

“Huh?”

Sheepishly, he tried to condense his thoughts into something simpler. “I was hoping to try to quantify my experience by making notes for myself to review later.”

“... You wanna take notes while we do stuff?” Demyx slowly understood, and summed up in plainer words.

“Yes.”

“Huh,” he blinked. “Okay, sure!”

That might mean interruptions, but he was a fan of watching Zexion do scientific smart-people things anyway. He got a little smile for his agreement, too, obviously having given the answer he'd hoped for.

“I'll try not to cause too much of an interruption,” Zexion told him, setting the pages on the nightstand and turning towards the bed. His crotch was nearly on level with Demyx's face, again, flustering him into red-faced silence.

“... Demyx?”

He'd gone very still, as though that would control his boner, and made a series of noises that might've been attempted words.

“Er, can I help?”

“I'm okay!” he declared, remembering that they'd done this before and it was silly to get overwhelmed by just having junk in his face. “Can I... touch, then?”

Zexion gave a small nod. Placing his hands on his legs, Demyx slid them up under the damp terrycloth, a little bit of moisture still clinging to his thighs.

“... I know you don't get it, but you're really sexy.”

“I believe you see that,” Zexion murmured, observing. So he wasn't being asked to join him on the bed just yet. Cautiously, his hands went to where the towel was knotted on his waist, and Demyx bit his lip. He was making shallow, slow kneading motions against his legs, openly admiring.

“Are you gonna...?”

“If it isn't too sudden.”

“No, everything is good,” Demyx smiled, kind of giddy, and sat up on his knees to place a kiss against his collarbone. The positioning struck Zexion as a little odd, but nonetheless he loosened the towel and let it slide down his hips.

If someone had questioned Demyx on what he was doing, they would've found it surprisingly strategic. His head was lower than Zexion's, from here – a rarity, the guy was not much in the height department – and the way he had to lean into him meant he couldn't _look_ with ease, yet. He was excited and eager to see the body he remembered so well, but he really wanted to play it cooler than that. Give Zexion a little more before... _more_.

The kisses trailed down and across his chest, steadily lower until Demyx was sinking back onto the bed properly. He coaxed Zexion to join him, at last, easing him to be practically on top with one knee briefly between Demyx's legs to brace himself. Conscientious and counter-productive, Zexion bent at something of an awkward angle when they kissed, trying not to make 'too much' contact with his body and not really getting it when Demyx encouraged more of said contact.

It took a moment to get it, and to get comfortable. Zexion planted his elbows on either side of Demyx's head while he straddled his hips, proximity making Demyx moan and tentatively request a deeper kiss. With minimal prompting, Zexion parted his lips and settled over him.

There was a _noise_ , muffled and musical, that came from deep inside Demyx's chest. The sound kind of gripped Zexion, interested in his reactions most of all – he was getting worked up, shifting to bring one leg up against Zexion.

Somehow, he'd forgotten the best way to breathe. He broke the kiss to recover a little, letting Demyx nuzzle him.

“Mn, Zexy...”

There was another brief stir in his abdomen. “What should I be doing...?”

“Touching is good... Touching here...” Demyx encouraged a hand towards his chest, and Zexion nodded with a disproportionately serious expression. He splayed his fingers, dragging his thumb over his skin, and was drawn into another kiss by fingers lacing through his damp hair. He returned it with measured attention given to both tasks – mouth, hands...

He wanted to get reactions out of Demyx, and was succeeding. When his hands were particularly nice, running along his pecs or teasing his nipples, Demyx arched into them and was rewarded with curious repetition.

Humming against Zexion's lower lip and giving it a suck, he pressed close again and muttered, “That's nice... Your hands are really soft.”

“Interesting,” Zexion commented, almost under his breath, and sought out spots that might draw similar responses.

They went lower. Demyx squirmed with a sound equal parts laugh to moan, and Zexion pulled away.

“Oh, was that...?”

“Kinda tickled...” Demyx grinned.

“Ah, of course.”

Abruptly, Zexion leaned over him, baffling Demyx completely. “Huh - ?”

Oh, right. Picking up his papers, Zexion scrawled something as hastily as he dared, and understanding fought through the six-inch-high wall of arousal to get to Demyx's brain.

The polite thing to do was probably wait for him to be done rather than ask what he was writing. Demyx kept quiet and thought about whether or not it'd be weird to ask to suck on Zexion's fingers. Not at the _moment_ , obviously, 'cause he was using them for pen-holding. Some other time.

“Sorry, where were we?” Zexion put the writing utensils down after a moment.

“Um... Touching stuff?”

“Right...” His hands hovered momentarily before settling gently on Demyx's chest, again.

The mood picked right back up where it left off, and Demyx ran his hands down his arms and over his back. Then, experimentally, he softly dragged his nails across his shoulder blades.

An appreciative exhale turned into, “Mn,” and Zexion sat up straighter. That was a... surprisingly agreeable feeling.

“That's good...?” Demyx had meant for that to come out seductive. It was a little too peppy to be sexy.

“I think so... I should note that.”

“Oh -...” He removed his hands. Reflexively, he was a little disappointed.

“... Maybe you could try doing it somewhere else for a comparison?” Zexion suggested carefully.

“Like... here?” Demyx ran his nails lightly over his hips, almost touching his ass, and heard Zexion's breath hitch. He glanced up, sorely tempted to touch more – but don't, not too fast, check in. “Was that a good gasp?”

“It was-... It's an interesting feeling.”

Good gasp. He did it again with a nuzzle to Zexion's thigh, and arousal was starting to catch on and take interest to Demyx's proximity. It was a low warmth, a faint tingling that flared when Demyx kissed the hollow of his hip.

“Mn...” Resting a hand against half-dry blonde hair, Zexion watched him cautiously drift closer to his hardening length. To his surprise, Demyx nuzzled it, and he almost grinned.

“I should... write this down, before I forget.”

Demyx almost laughed, kissing the base – more tingles, like sparks coming from his lips – and drawing back. “Okay.”

Leaning over him, he noted as much about the sensations he'd just experienced as he could recall with particular focus given to Demyx's nails. It was definitely worth noting that he'd started to harden, too... Perhaps he could pinpoint the exact combination of things that awoke that physical response.

It was sorely tempting to tease himself, watching Zexion take notes. Eager to resume, he made it up to himself by letting his hands rove back over Zexion's hips once he'd put the pen down, nails running over his ass and squeezing.

He'd caught him off guard. Zexion stuttered over a moan.

“Whoa...” Enthralled, Demyx brought his lips back and mouthed up the shaft, just skimming to start. His arousal bubbled and swelled enthusiastically, marveling over Zexion-moans and the feeling of him hardening, giving the head a slow and thorough lick.

He shivered, having closed his eyes to better experience Demyx's mouth, but the undercurrent of feeling ineffective was becoming difficult to ignore. He opened them again, starting, “Demyx...”

Demyx glanced up, tongue flicking over the slit. “Mn?”

It was such a perverse image, meeting Demyx's eyes when he was doing that. Zexion wondered if that should affect him more, but it wasn't even comparable to the feel of his nails or sound of his moans. Through shortened breaths, he tried to speak as normally as possible.

“My understanding is that this should be more of an exchange...”

“Mmm...” Demyx drew himself back up. “You wanna do stuff to me, then?”

“If you could explain to me...”

“I like your hands,” he mused immediately, guiding them down his body and towards his erection. Zexion climbed off of him to correct his position, getting them comfortable again. “As long as you're not too hard about anything, I'll like it,” Demyx explained, then laughed sheepishly. “I mean, touching. Not the other thing...”

There was a time innuendo would have been either lost of Zexion, or incredibly irritating. Since knowing Demyx better, he'd figured out that it was almost always inadvertent when it came out of his mouth, and that added to his occasionally bumbling charm. Weird, that he'd developed such a tolerance for it – the smile on Zexion's face was even _fond_.

“I understand,” he assured him, and draped his fingers around the stiff shaft. Pleased just to be touched, Demyx sighed blissfully.

There it was again, that little flare of intrigue in Zexion's gut. He moved his fingers without really stroking, feeling along unfamiliar flesh to begin with; he'd adopted that pseudo-professional air he got when reading a new book or testing out new office equipment, like he was conducting an experiment. This definitely fit 'experiment'. Demyx felt kind of giddy.

In all his reading, Zexion had found out where the majority of the nerve endings were. He brushed gently over the head with his thumb, putting a very slow, rolling kind of pressure along the ridge.

Demyx bit down on a whimper, nuzzling Zexion imploringly. “That's a good spot...”

“That makes sense...” With a serious nod, he tested out a circular motion and was rewarded with a longer, lower moan as lips pressed to his shoulder. The little jolt running through Demyx was so incredibly welcome, and the heady feeling in Zexion was stronger than it was before, when Demyx was touching _him_.

He should write that down... But in a minute. He was too fascinated to want to pull away.

“Zexy... More?”

“Oh -...” Seeking clarification, Zexion met his eyes. Demyx was flushed, pupils wide and licking his lips.

“Like... Stroking is good...”

“Mn.” To show he understood, he wrapped his fingers around the shaft and went slow, the motion not nearly as smooth as he'd have liked. The approval was still evident, his elation still mostly wrapped up in _Zexion_ and being close to him and feeling _good_ because of _him_ and Zexion was the best.

The pace he settled into was comfortable, but slow. “This would be easier with some kind of lubrication...”

Demyx almost wasn't listening. “Mn... Oh – D'you have any?”

“None I could use for this purpose...” Zexion rifled through the card catalog of his memory and deemed every suggestion either unseemly or unsanitary. He drew away to boost his mental capacity, because Demyx was still making soft pleasure sounds on every exhale, and it was most distracting.

“You don't need lube if you use mouths instead of hands...”

Demyx had been kind of just... thinking aloud. Thus, it came as a surprise when Zexion nodded pensively.

“You have a point...”

“I do?” His eyes went wide.

Zexion was no more bothered by the idea of using his mouth than his hands, knowing Demyx just showered, and failed to notice the brain meltdown he'd just caused. “Just give me a moment to fill in some notes.”

“Uh-huh...” Demyx sounded dazed. Sliding to the edge of the bed, Zexion took up his pen; his mind felt full to capacity, now that he was allowing himself to reflect on the last few minutes and get it all down on paper.

Deep red and stunned, reality started to catch up to Demyx at a snail's pace. It was going to happen... Zexion, between his legs, blowing him, he could _picture_ it.

God, he was so lucky. Not just because of the whole oral thing, but _Zexion_ , he was so perfect. He was such a nerd and so focused and blunt and bold, even when he wasn't sure of himself. He was comfortable with doing this because it was an area he hadn't explored, something he wanted to know, and Demyx got to be there because he wouldn't have wanted to do it any other way. Demyx _made_ him curious about something.

“... Mm...”

Automatically, Zexion glanced over his shoulder, assuming Demyx was trying to get his attention. Steam could've shot out his ears, blush managing to go even darker.

“Um, sorry, nothing!”

With an acknowledging sound, Zexion turned back around and kept jotting his notes. He'd moved on to Demyx and what he'd observed in him, scribbling with uninterrupted fervor for several minutes.

Demyx wanted to cuddle up against him, but thought that might be bad form.

Finally, Zexion put down the pen and gave his notes a hasty once-over to decide he was satisfied with them. “Sorry for the pause...”

“I don't mind,” Demyx shook his head. “You're doing _science_.”

He cleared his throat with a small smile. “Still, it's good of you to be patient.”

“I don't mind!” Grinning, Demyx sat up, inadvertently bringing some attention to his upright cock. Zexion glanced down at it, feeling unprepared.

“Now... you'll definitely have to give me some guidance with this...”

“Um,” Demyx paused, wracking his slow brain. “First, uh, you're sure? If you change your mind, you can stop and we'll do something else.”

“I'll bear that in mind.” He had no intention of changing his mind, but it was good to know, nonetheless.

“To do it... Tongue is always nice...” The blush that had died down rekindled. “And you have to open your mouth pretty wide so your teeth don't scrape...”

As a suggestion entered his mind, Zexion staved off the choking mortification that came with it. It _was_ a worthy idea, now that it had occurred to him, and might be of considerable help... If it was even feasible, because he wasn't sure how it'd be done. He had... _vague_ notions, from his research, but how it'd be put into practice...

“I suppose you could lead by example...”

Demyx lit up. “Yeah! I can do that!”

Zexion was so brilliant. That was the best idea anyone had ever had.

“How should this be positioned...?” Zexion questioned, still mentally trying to work it out. The mental images he was coming up with were not unlike those found in IKEA instruction manuals, and he didn't think that was quite right.

“Here, I can show you...” First, Demyx stole an affectionate kiss, then eased back. Top and bottom... Zexion should go over top, he decided. A dick could be intimidating, coming at you from above. “If you turn over on top of me... Sort of straddle my chest...”

The position was certain to expose him completely, but that wasn't enough to make Zexion reconsider. Embarrassing, though. Undeniably embarrassing. He turned his back to Demyx and slung a leg over him, steadying himself on all fours while Demyx ran a gentle hand back and forth over his leg and guided his hips closer. They lined up quite nicely, he thought, and brought Zexion right over his face.

His erection had flagged after all the interruptions and detachment required to think, but that just meant Demyx got to work him up again. One hand wrapped around the base and he craned his neck up, giving the underside a long lick.

It was unexpectedly hot, almost jarring. “Ah -”

“Is that okay?” Demyx hummed a little and kissed his cock. Zexion fought for focus, needing to take a figurative leap of faith to not look back at Demyx to monitor what he was doing.

“It's nice,” he breathed, and glanced back down. He was faced with the tip of Demyx's erection, but as with any task, it was less daunting when he had something else to concentrate on.

Demyx angled Zexion's cock carefully to lavish gentle attention to the head, starting just with tongue. He wanted to swallow him, badly, but he'd go slow... He didn't want to move too fast. The wet glide against his frenulum was as nice as it was distracting, but Zexion paid as close attention as he could. Gradually, he leaned forward and steadied Demyx's cock with one hand.

The lick was cautious, and the taste of his leaking slit was unpleasantly salty. But he didn't flag it as 'wrong' or 'unsafe', and Demyx had moaned when he did it. Zexion privately decided to go back to what he knew better and kissed from the tip down to the base.

The tentativeness was endearing and sweet, spurring Demyx on. Breathing out, he slowly wrapped his lips around the head and sucked – gentle, really light.

“ _Mn_...” Zexion tensed, fingers tightening around the base. There was a catch of breath, and Demyx drew off him – in pain? Had he hurt him? Quickly, Zexion corrected his grip.

“Ngh, that was good, s'okay...”

“Oh...” Relaxing a little, he experimented with his grip and slowly licked a ring around the head, mindful of his earlier need for lubrication.

This time, he _felt_ Demyx moan. He'd stifled it against Zexion's shaft, tongue teasing, and he didn't think he'd ever experienced something so... molten. Trembling slightly, he tried to mimic the way Demyx's tongue played in circles and traced the crown.

All the while, Demyx was beautifully vocal, and Zexion couldn't tell if his mouth or his _mouth_ was pleasing him more.

He took just the head past his lips, having no real standard as to what he'll be able to take comfortably. Zexion already felt like his lips were stretched around it but it wasn't too much, by any means... and Demyx was doing that and more, perfectly capably. He swallowed the head and bobbed his head slowly, shallowly, not too ambitious yet for Zexion's sake.

God, his tongue... Maybe he was just testing, but the fleeting little flicks of Zexion's tongue felt like _teasing_ and it made him whine. Still with a cock in his mouth, and thus it became nothing but vibration.

Zexion's mind was briefly wiped blank, and the answering moan was involuntary.

“ _Mm-nn_...” Demyx swirled his tongue around his head as he drew back, but only to swallow him again with far fewer self-imposed reservations. The arm supporting Zexion shook – he couldn't keep up anymore but that was fine, he didn't think it really mattered. He substituted with the same motions from his tongue that Demyx seemed to like, started to suck when he found out it made him sound desperate...

Head falling back, Zexion's cock accidentally slipped from his mouth. “That's good...”

Never had Demyx sounded like that, to his memory. Spurred on, Zexion swallowed him right up to the first twinge of discomfort, sucking as thoroughly as he dared. With barely time to catch his breath, Demyx moaned loud and enthusiastically took him back into his mouth, deep-throating with little effort. Zexion's whole body was tingling, but most of it was localized right between his legs – he remembered this, the mounting electricity that signaled orgasm last time -

He forgot how to breathe and had to pull back, panting urgently. “Ahn... Demyx-...”

“Mn-...” There was the soft sound of his lips smacking, the drag of his tongue against the shaft to the tip. “Uh-huh?”

“It's only... I'm feeling close...”

Demyx almost purred. “That's okay.”

“Will you still...?”

“Mmn...” His response was muffled, lips wrapping around the head again, and Zexion moaned shakily. The sounds were still quiet but came faster, less contained – Demyx swallowed him deep with every rhythmic movement of his head, _really_ wanting to make him lose control and working for his wish. Zexion dug his knees in against the mattress and grabbed handfuls of the covers, hips rocking shallowly before he could help himself. He was too _close_ to think about what he was doing, or acknowledge that Demyx was allowing it.

With one more roll of his hips, Zexion eased deep into the warmth around his cock and tensed so hard he practically vibrated. An embarrassing whimper escaped as he came, and Demyx swallowed with another hum, his hand sliding up to drape his arm around Zexion's hips. He didn't draw back until he'd swallowed it all.

“Ah...”

It took Zexion some time to regain control of his limbs. His head dropped forward as he panted and shivered through his peak, angled close enough for his hot breath to escape against his skin. Just the promise of his mouth on the member that'd become acquainted with it was teasing him, but Demyx was kind of getting off on his own helpless arousal.

Without Demyx _doing_ anything to him anymore, though, the position felt awfully invasive. Zexion pushed himself back up onto his elbows and worked his way up, sliding his leg back to join the other and kneeling at his side. A little glazed, Demyx turned onto his side to face him and grinned lazily.

Their breathing matched up. Zexion wasn't aware how he looked, flushed and mussed. “Should I continue where I left off...?”

“If you wanna... You felt so good,” Demyx sighed blissfully, practically sprawling back. Zexion felt surprisingly flattered.

“I suppose I'll...” Sliding back on the bed, Zexion needed to curl over his knees to fit himself on it and between Demyx's legs. Promptly, Demyx rearranged himself to make it easier, humming.

“You're great and... And _so great_ , you're like, perfect...”

Had he been so incomprehensible, moments ago? ... Probably not. Already, Zexion's head was clearing up and he was able to make more sense of things from this angle, wrapping his hand around the base again while carefully avoiding his own saliva.

The contented noise that left Demyx might've been an attempt at more speech, but it didn't sound like it was important either way. Zexion licked his lips and pressed them to the head again – the taste of him was stronger now, but he was able to push it back as he parted slicked lips over the crown.

“ _Nngh_ , Zexion...”

There was the smallest swell of pride; Demyx's moans were louder, eyes half-lidded. More than that, though, Zexion was hit quite strongly with affection, enjoying his pleasure and responsiveness.

He needed just a little more of... _something_ , he was so hot and wanted _so_ badly, Demyx felt like he was melting. “Ahh... Ngh, that's-... I'm starting to...”

Unsure of what to do, Zexion lifted himself to try shorter, harder sucks. Demyx's moans stuttered, even louder.

“I'm so _close_ , Zexy...”

He broke contact to speak. “What should I-... What do you want me to do?”

That was way too complicated a question for Demyx's blank brain. “ _Nn_... I wanna come... Mn... How...?”

Biting his lip in thought, Zexion pushed aside his slight discomfort – be rational, he told himself, he could wash his hands afterwards – and started to stroke him instead. Shuddering, Demyx arched into it, and it wasn't long before he was spilling into his hand with a loud and shaky cry.

Zexion's eyes widened and Demyx sank breathlessly against the mattress. His hand was sticky, and he'd been close enough to feel fluid hit his chest... but he wasn't nearly as bothered as he'd expected. He was kind of wrapped up in Demyx's expression, relaxed and sated.

“... Mm,” his eyes opened again, content. “You're... Wow. Love you.”

Smile just barely visible, Zexion hastened to clean himself off. Both tissues and sanitary wipes were employed – a necessity to have around, in case of chemical contact on his skin.

Sitting up, Demyx stretched and observed. “Want me to do something?”

“Do something?”

He grinned. “Wanna interview me for your notes?”

“If you have some input to make,” Zexion agreed, sliding them towards him. With a flourish, Demyx picked up the pen and jotted 'Zexion is the best' in one of the chart boxes. 'The best' in question covered a low laugh before accepting his pen back.

“I'll be right back!” Demyx declared, nuzzling his shoulder and bounding off the bed. All things considered, he figured Zexion would appreciate it if he brushed his teeth.

“No rush. I have quite a few notes to make.”

And expand upon, and reorder... In quick review, Zexion had trouble believing how scattered they were.

Revision was badly required.

Hours later, they'd both redressed and settled comfortably into separate activities, for it turned out that Zexion's notes were only the first step. After typing them up, forming a working thesis, researching online, and making two calls to Lexaeus, Zexion was finally satisfied with his conclusions and how they aligned with all his research on asexuality.

Opening the door, he walked into the living room where Demyx had spread out on the couch to achieve maximum comfort, a now-almost-empty bag of chips on his chest. His expression was one of rapt fascination as he watched a documentary about seahorses, but he wasn't so caught up that he didn't make a little room and pause the smooth narration.

“You're back! How was your science?”

“I believe it was successful.”

Demyx tried to adopt the same cadence as the documentary narrator. “What were your discoveries?”

“I wouldn't call any of it a 'discovery',” Zexion replied, amused.

“Your... con...clusions?”

He grinned fondly. “I've come to understand that sex is something I am entirely capable of participating in, and even enjoying.”

Demyx's heart leapt a little, and in the weirdest way, he was proud of himself. He did enjoyable sex! Good job, Demyx! “ _That's_ good, I'd feel really guilty if didn't even like it...”

“That said,” Zexion went on, “it still isn't something I need or particularly desire. And sexual attraction in particular is still beyond me...”

Nodding, Demyx stroked his chin because he thought it was what smart people did when they were thinking.

“Through my observations, though, I have noticed a pattern... That the experience seems to be far more rewarding based on _your_ enjoyment of it.”

Demyx blinked curiously. “Really?” That was a new one. Zexion nodded.

“I'd go so far as to say that, the base physical sensation aside, my enjoyment of sex derives entirely from yours.”

“Whoa...” Blood went up to Demyx's cheeks, and he wondered if it was weird to feel kind of _warmed_ by that. Those were snuggle-feelings he just got, like a hormonal surge but for cuddling.

Zexion cleared his throat, entirely clinical in his report. “So the conclusion I've come to, if it's acceptable to you, is that I'd prefer to continue exploring sex with you as the... well, I'd call it the 'subject', I couldn't find the proper terminology if it exists...”

“As your science partner!” Demyx supplied.

He laughed softly. “If that's what you'd like to be called.”

“I'm your _partner_ ,” Demyx grinned, leaning into him. He _knew_ love-sex would mean more; now it was also _science._ “That's so cool.”

One arm slid around him, so much more natural and comfortable with touch than Zexion used to be. “If I'm not mistaken, you already were.”

“Heh, yeah. Boyfriend... partners. So, what should _I_ do? Tell you when I'm, uh... Y'know. Horny?”

“That would help the process. I'm not so attuned to it yet...”

“Okay. And if you're busy or just don't feel like it, you can tell me, I won't be offended.”

“I'll make note of that.”

“I get horny kind of a lot, so... Sorry if it gets annoying,” Demyx apologized, preemptively kind of sheepish. Zexion shook his head, though, honestly unbothered.

“I'll have plenty to work with.”

Demyx relaxed, and looked thoughtful. “What about when your experiment's over?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... If you decide like, no more sex, that'll be okay.”

Considering that, he tried to decide whether or not it was likely that he'd simply decide their sexual experimentation was 'over', and was surprised to find he couldn't fathom it. There seemed so much to learn about it... and, if and when he'd _learned_ , that much more to become an expert in.

Zexion didn't much like being an amateur at anything he tried his hand at, and he _did_ like knowing he made his boyfriend happy.

“I'll call this an ongoing study.”

“ _Cool_.”

Getting comfortable against him, Zexion nodded towards the television. “So, what are you watching?”

“Seahorses! It's following the whole life of a little group of seahorse brothers and sisters.”

“Really? Hm, sounds interesting.” Privately, he loved it when Demyx showed this kind of interest.

“It is!” Demyx went a little quieter, pressing 'play' and letting the narrator continue his even-voiced story of the _hippocampus guttulatus_. “Except one of the little seahorses isn't attracting a mate properly and it's really sad. Look -” he pointed out the one in question, “ - he keeps going the little mating dance with the skinny females... They've already deposited their eggs, they have nothing for you, little guy...”

Biting his lip to keep his smile contained, Zexion ran a hand soothingly through his hair and settled in to watch.

 

* * *

 

Even though Terra and Aqua would be present for Ven's official family celebration of his birthday tomorrow, they'd still seen fit to have their own party at a massive midway on the outskirts of town – because, naturally, the big one-eight called for both substance and style. Following a considerably-sized birthday lunch, they'd spent the day racing and playing games and throwing extravagant amounts of money at prizes, managing to win an inordinate amount of tickets and pooling them for the Ven-sized stuffed dog behind the counter. They'd sustained themselves off junk food and dragged themselves back to Terra's apartment for a sleepover, and successfully shared a single pizza between the three of them.

That was probably the most impressive feat of all. Aqua was known to pack away her share of calories, too, but the earlier ice cream sundaes kept them from going to bed hungry. They snacked, they watched action movies, and they debated over whether or not it would ever be possible to do a roundhouse kick powerful enough to take off a man's head until they all started yawning mid-sentence.

They set up the couch for Aqua, and perhaps overcompensated with the blankets. It was only right. Then they bade her goodnight.

Ven dropped onto Terra's bed, that pleasant mix of energized and worn out, at thirty minutes to midnight. It'd taken some coaxing to leave the stuffed dog (named Pluto, naturally) in the corner instead of bringing it into bed, and Terra had already privately resolved to invest in a bigger one in the undetermined future. He couldn't ever take the expression on Ven's face when he accepted there just wasn't room for three, ever again.

Getting the lights, he closed the door and crawled under the covers, wrapping Ven up in one arm.

11:31 PM. Just twenty-nine short minutes until his birthday, and Ven was hyper-aware of it. He snuggled into Terra's bare chest, but couldn't bring himself to shut his eyes with so much on his mind. He'd be eighteen in twenty-nine minutes, and Terra was wearing really thin pants.

With a low, content hum, Terra kissed his forehead, and was about to ask if he had an adequate enough pre-birthday birthday party. Ven had tilted his head up to meet his lips in the dark, though, and Terra was interrupted. He chuckled, low and quiet, when he returned the kiss and Ven's stomach flipped over in a really good way. He liked that sound.

Terra deepened the kiss, slow and loving, and a dim spark of heat built between the closing space of their bodies. Ven worked his way a little closer, keeping the kiss slow but deep. It was like he was memorizing Terra's mouth, and he was eighteen in under half an hour. Now Terra was reminded of that, too.

He wondered if this was supposed to feel _different_ – racier, somehow, or new, but it was all wonderfully familiar and just _Ven_.

They pressed up closer, kissed longer and lovingly, and Ven's mind had wandered to all the other nice things Terra's mouth could do... and other things they'd definitely be _allowed_ to do, in about twenty minutes now.

It was lucky it was dark. He was blushing pretty fiercely.

Terra had almost managed to keep his thoughts on a more pure track until he'd pictured Ven stretched out underneath him, still holding on tight like he was now.

“Mm...”

The sound almost startled Ven. Nervously, he sucked at his lip and coaxed another soft moan from Terra – it made him tremble a little, now that he expected it. He _really_ liked it when he made sounds like that.

It was deeply embarrassing, in Terra's opinion – he hadn't forgotten that Aqua was out there on his couch, and she was _probably_ asleep already (he hoped), but he couldn't know for sure. He didn't want to disturb her, or be caught making out... but he wasn't worried enough to stop kissing him, taking a little more control of it.

His tongue drew a little sound of appreciation from Ven, this time. Terra's hand started to travel down his side, and stopped short of his hip bone. Ven tensed.

Inhale measured, Terra's withdrew until their lips barely touched. “... Is this okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Ven breathed. He was buzzing a little with both possibilities, and nerves.

“... Should we wait?”

Tilting his head, Ven's eyes sought the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We're not doing _too_ much right now...”

Terra was uncertain. “Did we decide what... _too much_ is?”

“Um...”

Less than a quarter until midnight.

“I know we figured out... what to do, in theory. But...”

“Yeah...” Ven went quieter.

“... I don't want you to think you have to do anything,” Terra whispered.

“No, I know,” Ven hastily confirmed. “I don't think it would be _bad_ to do more...”

“But?” he prompted softly.

“But...” Once more, he looked at the clock. “Now that I'm here, it's sort of a lot of expectations...”

Terra shook his head. “I don't expect anything. Do you?”

Surprised, Ven blinked, trying to make out his features better. “You don't...?”

“No way. I decided, the very first time we went on a date... I'd never try to decide or guess what you were ready for. I count on you to tell me... And just because you'll be eighteen in...” Terra craned his neck towards the clock, “...thirteen minutes, that isn't going to just _make_ you ready. If you aren't right now, you won't be at midnight.”

Ven reddened. “When you put it that way, yeah...”

“I just...” Terra settled against the pillow again and tried to figure out the best way to say what he meant, but lamely settled. “I want what you want.”

Something warm bubbled up in Ven, anyway. “D'you think you're ready?”

“I keep going back and forth on it,” he confessed with a light cough. “Sometimes... I am _so_ ready, but others...”

The way he said that kind of lent itself to imagining, and Ven allowed himself just that. He _pictured_ it, Terra wrapped around him, closer than they'd ever been... but he realized that it felt more like fantasy than desire.

“So... there's no reason to rush it.”

“No reason,” Terra agreed, relaxing. One arm wrapped around him again. “I love you, and whenever it happens... I want it to be... You know. Special. Not just because we can.”

“This feels good,” Ven nodded, snuggling up closer. “Just this.”

Firmness and warmth pressed against him from all sides, heavy with affection and bubbly with contentment instead of nerves... He didn't think sex could make him feel any more loved than he did, right then.

They cuddled up together, kissed when the clock read 12:00, and drifted off soon after. 


	26. Barely Legal

No matter how massive the cake, there just wasn't room for fledgling adult triplets to crowd around it. On the countdown, Sora and Ven blew out the candles to enthusiastic applause and a one-man party blower ruckus. Roxas, with his personal-sized ice cream cake, didn't have candles to blow out, but wasn't really one for that tradition anyway.

Mrs. Hikari hit the dining room lights again and Sora sat back with a huge, satisfied grin. It was only lunch, and this was already a strong competitor the best birthday he'd ever had, surrounded by family and their collective closest friends. Riku had been decorated by two party hats – one put on by Sora and the other by Kairi – and had conceded to wear them without a fuss, much to their delight. Namine was on Kairi's other side, sketching a surly-faced pony with a party hat instead of a unicorn horn, and any resemblance to persons living or dead was purely coincidental.

Aqua and Terra had delivered Ven home about an hour ago, just in time for the party to start... and, to everyone's surprise, Roxas's guest had come by shortly after.

Axel was draped casually in his chair, party blower stuck between his grinning lips. He was the first new friend the Hikari parents had been introduced to since Roxas was in ninth grade, and any reservations about him had been put aside when he mentioned his program at HBU. He was also mindfully polite to them both and praised the food endlessly, so that helped.

The day couldn't have been any better. Except it was, because Sora's acceptance letter from CDI had arrived that morning, so it'd actually been on a steady incline from an already high point. Everything was awesome. _Adulthood_ was awesome.

Okay, _early adulthood_ before they had time to learn otherwise was awesome.

Everyone settled back while used plates were gathered and new ones were distributed, Aqua giving Ven a bracing pat on the back before he settled into Terra's arms. Although the two of them had been reserved with kisses (because parents were _right there_ , so embarrassing) they'd been nauseatingly sweet with each other and seemed more in love than ever. Impressive, after three-ish years.

“Well?” Axel nudged Roxas, watching Namine pluck candles off the cake. “What'd you wish for?”

The fact that he hadn't actually done any candle-blowing was irrelevant.

“Obviously, that pony I never got.”

With a smirk, Axel lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear. “I could pick up a bridle.”

“Oh my _god,_ ” Roxas whispered back, going a very faint shade of pink.

“For the pony we'll pick up on the way to my place. _Obviously_.”

Grumbling, he slunk down in his chair as subtly as possible. “Why'd I invite you over again?”

“It's not a party without me.”

Before Namine could get to all the candles, Kairi had plucked a couple away to suck the icing off the ends. Reprovingly, they were taken away.

“You'll swallow wax, that can't taste good...”

“ _Sugary_ wax.”

“Want any help cutting the cake?” Terra asked of Riku, who was helping Mr. Hikari distribute new cutlery before the parents trudged off to start the kitchen clean-up.

“We've got it. You don't have to get up.”

That was really the answer Terra wanted, since there was a snuggly Ven in his lap, and to make him move was probably a municipal crime. “Alright.”

Sora had been eyeing Riku's head and evaluating whether or not he could fit another party hat on him, but abandoned his deep thoughts to announce, “Gimme the knife. I got this.”

“Cut _equal_ pieces,” Riku impressed.

“I will!” Sora sounded affronted. “ _Geez_.”

Kairi exchanged a doubtful look and a smile with Riku, who handed over the knife nonetheless. Namine, amused, piped up, “I'd actually prefer a smaller piece.”

“Got it.” He cut towards the the middle of the cake and removed two equal pieces for himself and Ven.

“Do I have to cut an equal piece for you?” Roxas looked to Axel.

“Or I could steal it.”

The thievery of both ice cream _and_ cake was a terrible thing to joke about, and Roxas frowned as he cut his ice cream cake in half.

“Oh, I was gonna make it all adorable,” Axel assured him with a light smirk. “Swiping bites off your plate, maybe feeding you the occasional forkful instead.”

Roxas was about to mock Axel without mercy, but was softly interrupted by Namine. “Don't laugh. There's a good possibility Sora and Riku might... And Ven and Terra already do.”

“... Seriously?”

Roxas bit down hard on his lip. Staring from one couple to another, Axel looked to Namine with tentative disbelief. “Please tell me you're joking. _I_ was joking.”

She shook her head. “Mn-mn.”

With deepest regret, Roxas chimed in with a sound of affirmation.

“Your brothers,” Axel muttered, “... they're just... They're so gay.”

“You see what I have to deal with?”

“I'm deeply sickened,” he sighed, and drove his fork into his ice-cream semi-circle. Namine delicately sipped at her water and accepted a plate as it was passed to her.

Sora was putting the most work into cutting Riku's slice, calculating to make it just a _bit_ slimmer than his own, just enough for the difference to be overlooked. The math alone had taken almost sixty seconds, and positioning the knife was threatening to take another. Riku watched all the while.

“You're taking a long time,” he observed. Sora sweated.

“I'm just making sure it's the right size,” he defended, and slowly lowered the knife. It was one quarter of an inch thinner than Sora's, and Riku wouldn't suspect a thing. Someone should crown him the winner of birthdays.

Riku had, of course, figured out exactly what he was doing. “It's not _that_ complicated.”

“Terra, Aqua, how big do you want your pieces?” Sora hastened to _not_ respond to any alluded-to accusations. Aqua, ever merciful, saved him by answering the question.

“I'll take about the same as Ven, maybe a bit less?”

“I'll have the same,” Terra agreed. He kind of wished the cake was big enough to cut into quarters, but he supposed they still had the one from yesterday at his apartment to sate his not-often-indulged sweet tooth.

“So, I suppose you two will have to start apartment hunting,” Namine spoke up, deliberately diverting Riku from his suspicion.

“Hm? Oh – yeah, we thought we'd start tonight,” Riku replied, starting on the cake frosting-first.

“There are no high-rise buildings in Destiny Islands, so most likely we'll be renting part of someone's house,” Sora elaborated, handing Aqua and Terra their plates. Strangely, it _didn't_ take him two minutes to cut those slices, or the ones for Kairi and Namine.

“Ideally, not a basement. I'd prefer some natural light.”

“Plus basements on the Islands tend to flood,” Sora agreed. “A _lot_.”

Having been eavesdropping, sort of, Axel addressed Ven. “Lucky, you've already got your boyfriend's place all set up.”

Ven grinned with a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth. “We're going to have to move a bunch of stuff around, still.”

“I assume the bed stays for sentimental value, now that it's been broken in?”

It had been an inopportune time to tease, and Axel was briefly in danger of being slapped with a manslaughter charge. Terra choked on cake, and Ven almost dropped his fork.

“ _Whoa_ , who said anything about that?!”

Oblivious to Terra's struggles and gasps for air, Axel shrugged. What with the former questions, he was actually kind of eager to know how far his advice from way-back-when had been taken. “Didn't you crash there last night to _celebrate?_ ”

“Yeah, but it wasn't like that...!” Ven controlled a stammer, eyes wide.

“Dude, shut up,” Roxas hissed. Aqua had taken notice, appraising Axel with raised eyebrows and a disapproving stare.

“Is he bothering you?” she inquired, and it was amazing how much a maternal note of concern could sound like a threat.

“Apparently,” Axel replied, instead, and looked mostly innocent. “My bad.”

Finally, with Ven worriedly rubbing his back, Terra managed to choke the cake down the right pipe. “Can I get some water?” he rasped, pounding his broad chest once with a loose fist.

“I can get you some!” Ven made to leap up, but Aqua waved him back down.

“I've got it.”

“Thanks, Aqua...” Terra practically drained the glass when it was set in front of him. Namine had taken notice, and was the only other one to do so, since Sora, Riku, and Kairi were busy talking about Destiny Islands and the sort of jobs Riku might be applying for.

“Is everything okay?” she inquired, looking from one red face to another.

Axel glanced at Roxas for some sort of explanation, preferably communicated through telepathy. So sex was a more private affair for them – he could respect that. They'd been together for _years_ , though, so he wouldn't have thought it was _that_ taboo.

He didn't get it, and Roxas didn't seem to either. He just shrugged at Axel and shoveled ice cream into his mouth.

“I think everything is grand,” Axel responded to Namine, at last. Ven and Terra were eating like it was their last meal, equally flustered.

“Axel's just riling them,” Roxas clarified. “Just ignore him. That's what I do.”

“Why do you hurt me like this?”

“Would you rather we were feeding each other cake?” he shot back. Axel pulled an expression of utmost distaste.

“Ugh. _Ugh_.”

Roxas smirked, and Namine determined that she could probably leave that half of the table to their own devices. She turned back towards her original conversation, only to find a glimmer of sadness on a face that was most beautiful when it was smiling.

“Hard to believe we'll be splitting up,” Kairi was saying, despondent. Namine sympathetically took her hand under the table.

“There's no way it'll last. And we'll visit,” Riku reminded her. Although, if he were being honest with himself... he was upset they wouldn't all be together, too. It felt uncomfortably like he and Sora were abandoning the girls, even though they'd wind up in the same place eventually. He wasn't sure if that was going to be on the Islands or somewhere else entirely, but he didn't doubt that they _would_.

With a worthy attempt at sounding innocent, Sora suggested, “You guys could always transfer if you _really_ wanted to...”

“I don't know if I could afford a big move,” Namine pondered, looking to Kairi. “But, if you really wanted to, I would save up.”

“It's way too soon to think about that, realistically.” Kairi shot Sora a _look_. He wasn't even a little apologetic.

The conversation didn't go on for very much longer before Riku started stealing cake (to make up for the amount he was slighted) off Sora's plate while he pretended to be bothered. Terra had already transitioned into feeding Ven his.

They'd already done presents. There was no good reason to stick around and suffer.

“You going to take me away from this horror soon?” Roxas asked. Their plans had already been cleared with his parents, give or take a few details – following the family celebration, he was going out to dinner 'with friends' and would return home late. He was eager to get that started.

“When you're ready. And I'm done my cake.” Axel had three bites left, if that. Roxas had the equivalent, but he'd also developed a super-human capacity for ice-cream intake and basically inhaled it.

“I'm good,” he declared.

“You're always good.”

Rolling his eyes, Roxas got up from the table. “I'm heading out.”

“Wait up,” Axel protested, and shoveled his mouth full.

Aqua was giving him a long look of consideration, and whatever conclusion she'd come to brought a warm smile to her face. “See you, Roxas. Happy birthday.”

For his own sake, he pretended not to notice. “Thanks.”

There was a cry of anguish and Axel's head fell into his hands, cringing. “Brain freeze...”

“Nice work, dumbass.”

“Why...” Axel groaned, squeezing his scalp. Namine covered a giggle.

“C'mon, big guy. Let's go,” Roxas encouraged in the most condescending manner he was capable of, which was pretty gosh-darn condescending. With a dramatic sigh, Axel dragged himself up with the 'help' of one of Roxas's arms around his bicep. They ignored the looks coming their way.

“Be gentle with me...”

Curiously, Terra leaned close to Ven's ear to ask in the lowest undertone, “So, are they dating...?”

“Roxas says no, but it kinda _seems_ like they are,” Ven whispered back.

“Wait, Roxas!”

He paused, letting go of Axel's arm as Sora jumped out of his chair. Without warning, Roxas was wrapped in a crushing hug.

Riku covered a grin. As a rule, he'd ignored Roxas and everything to do with him since moving in, and it'd eventually transformed into a begrudging peace treaty between the two. The atmosphere between Sora and Roxas was a little shakier, though, with both honest forgiveness and gleeful petty revenge bearing down from Sora's end. The open affection was nice to see, and Riku was happy for them.

Plus, having experienced those hugs first-hand, Riku knew Roxas's ribs were being reduced to a fine powder. How often did he get to be happy about something good happening to Roxas _and_ bask in spiteful delight?

“ _Why?_ ” Roxas wheezed, strained. Sora finally released him, holding him at arm's length.

“'Cause... I'm gonna miss you.”

“... I'm coming back,” Roxas said slowly. “I'll be back by tonight, tomorrow at the latest.”

Sora shook his head. “No, I mean... 'cause I got my acceptance today, and everything, I'm just thinking... I know it's still a few months away, but I'm just going to miss you when we go off on our own.”

Mostly, Roxas was bewildered. There was a tiny bit of him, though – a very _unwilling_ bit – that burst with affection. “Uh, I'll miss you, too.”

He wasn't able to say the same for Riku, but he doubted he'd _want_ to be missed by Roxas. Privately, Riku was thinking along the same lines.

“Adorable,” Axel drawled, cutting in. Roxas felt himself turn red.

“... Is that it?”

“That's it,” Sora confirmed, beaming. “Happy birthday, _little_ brother.”

“Oh, _whatever_.” Roxas mussed his hair aggressively as he pulled away, which could've turned into an all-out brawl on any other day. As it was, Sora just laughed playfully as he returned to his seat.

“I'm getting all emotional,” Axel claimed.

“Ugh, get me out of here.”

“Bye, Roxas!” Ven waved, amused, while Terra chuckled into his hair.

“Yeah, see you.”

“Have fun,” Terra bade them, and then wondered if that was the right sentiment to express. Best he didn't think about it.

“I'm gonna miss you, too!” Ven teased.

“Don't _you_ start,” Roxas called back, already walking down the hallway and about to reach the door. Axel followed, grinning with way too much joy.

“You three are actually _precious_. Why didn't you tell me?”

Roxas made a long noise of frustration which sounded a little bit like a faulty vacuum. He held it for ten seconds.

“You're _cute_ ,” Axel cooed.

The noise extended to one of fury, like someone had just tried to vacuum up a cat's tail and the cat was having _none_ of that. His lung capacity was proving to be most impressive. With his shoes properly laced and his grin wide, Axel got the door for them.

“You're lucky,” Roxas informed him darkly, slipping on his shoes and following him out.

“Lucky _I'm_ cute?”

“Just lucky.”

“I think I'm cute,” Axel mumbled, and dropped an arm over Roxas's shoulder as they walked down the driveway.

There was a time Roxas would have shrugged out from under him, but that time was gone and physical boundaries of all sorts were not off-limits. “So, what are your diabolical plans for me?”

“I'm gonna seduce the fuck out of you.”

“Oh? I'm quivering already.”

“We could do the whole nine yards. Fancy wine, sexy mood music, low lighting. Then pick up flowers to have sex on the petals. _No_ idea what that'd feel like.”

Roxas snorted. “If you're paying.”

“Naturally. You've gotta save for HBU.”

“Good, we're on the same page,” he grinned.

“You planning on dorm life?”

“Maybe. I'd rather get an apartment nearby, but I'd take a dorm over staying at home.”

Axel lit up, having had the most brilliant idea anyone had ever had. “I could kick Demyx to the curb and give you his room.”

“We couldn't take that much of each other, and you know it.”

... Actually, that was true. Roxas was his best friend, and it'd taken a long fucking time to reach that point, so they probably shouldn't mess it up by becoming roommates. Axel considered it for another second before bargaining, “But for the first couple of days, it'd be really funny watching watching Demyx figure out why his keys don't work.”

“My god, you're right. Let's do it.”

Axel snickered. “We can give him his room back when, and only when, he promises never to gush about Zexion in my presence.”

“Alright, this sounds like a noble cause,” Roxas agreed.

“Nice. Still leaves you needing a permanent place to stay, though.”

“Got any recommendations?”

To his surprise, Axel wound up launching into anecdotes and a personal rundown of places he'd considered living. Not that he would have said so, Roxas found himself impressed that he had anything to say that wasn't bullshit and took the practical advice to heart.

Inevitably, of course, it _became_ bullshit when Axel started listing the advantages of dorms and included the easy access to campus orgies among them. Roxas combated that with the low probability of how many guys would be both interested in men, and up to their standards.

The discussion was enough to intrigue them both, but their return to Axel's apartment wasn't actually one where they stumbled through the door with hands already down each other's pants. As it turned out, Axel's earlier talk of fancy restaurants and flowers was half-serious. The joke half was the flowers.

He'd made a dinner reservation at a classy Italian restaurant and insisted they dress up 'like adults', taming his hair and forgoing his eyeliner. While totally willing to indulge him when there was good food involved, Roxas had kind of forgotten that eyeliner wasn't just a permanent part of his face and it was _freakin' weird_. Still, playing along meant staring a little bit less than he was inclined to and flattening his spikes (kind of), dressed in the nicest clothes his wardrobe permitted. Work clothes, in other words.

With politeness emphasized to almost comedic effect, Axel held the door open for him and brought them up to the hostess.

“Reservation under 'Jenova'.”

“Of course – right this way,” she nodded, gathering menus and guiding them to the dining room. Roxas fell in step with Axel, keeping close.

“Don't know if I've ever had a table reserved before,” he informed him quietly.

“Adult as hell, right?”

“I can practically feel the mortgage coming on.”

“And now you put away college money for _your_ kids.”

Roxas snorted. “Those ungrateful bastards can earn their own.”

“ _Harsh_.”

“Life's tough for the theoretical kids I'm not having,” Roxas shrugged. So caught up in muttering to each other, they nearly barreled into the hostess. Axel slid into the booth, looking grave.

“This is probably an awkward time to tell you I'm pregnant.”

“Well, shi-i-...” Roxas trailed off, eyes darting to the menus being set in front of them by a quietly confused hostess. “Thank you.”

She deserved ample credit for remaining professional. “I'll be back with some water for you in just a moment, and your server will be by if you'd like to take a look at our wine selection.”

“ _Lovely_.” Axel plucked the wine list from the delicate arrangement in the middle of the table. The thin laminate was being held up by delicate little candles; very atmospheric. Fire was all that was needed to set _any_ mood.

Eyeing the wine list, Roxas waited to speak until they were alone. “Uh, am I going to get carded?”

“ _No_ clue,” Axel lowered his voice. “It's not like we have to have wine.”

His nose wrinkled. “Can we skip that part of adulthood?”

“I have better liquor at home, anyway.”

“Is that a promise?”

“For you, baby, anything.” Axel winked. It was not suave.

Roxas stared at him very hard for about fifteen seconds.

“... What? Aren't you charmed?”

His eyes narrowed.

“I will give you an entire bottle of vodka if you smile, right now.”

Against his will, a grin tugged at his lips and Roxas barely had time to turn his face away to hide it. “Goddamn it...”

With a triumphant sound, Axel replaced the wine list and opened the menu. The hostess returned with glasses and a crystal jug of water, filling both to murmured thanks. She swept away with an assurance that their server would be with them shortly.

“Should we toast or something?” Axel proposed. “Here's to legal age?”

“Sure.” Roxas lifted the glass. “And to all the things I'll be doing that I totally didn't do before.”

“To your deflowering,” he echoed, and clinked their glasses together. With a roll of his eyes, Roxas drank.

Then, uncomfortably, he noticed that there were a few people looking their way knowingly. The tinkling of glasses had falsely tipped off those nearby into thinking something either more official or romantic in nature was happening.

Roxas tensed slightly, and occupied himself with his drink.

“Good evening, sirs,” their server, in a proper suit, approached and greeting them with a deferential air. “Have you had a chance to look at the wine menu?”

“Not to our tastes, actually.”

“Very well. Might I recommend an appetizer? We have many for sharing.”

Rim still against his lips, Roxas reddened. He tried not to examine that statement too deeply – the looks and the 'pairing' language, that shit was surely coincidental. And, even if it wasn't... so what? Axel _was_ his best-friend-who-he-slept-with. What did it matter, if total strangers thought they were a 'couple'? He didn't intend on sleeping with any of them, so it had no bearing on his life whatsoever.

He missed out on the appetizer ordering while he was deep in thought, but Axel was all over it anyway. He placed an order of breadsticks, and the server moved on while they decided on entrees.

Axel stared blankly at the menu and lowered his voice. “Did you check their pastas? I don't know if I can ever pronounce most of these.”

Roxas dragged out a long 'uh' sound.

“... Do any of these look like your basic spaghetti and meatballs...” Axel flipped to the next page.

“I think this has meat... sauce?”

“It definitely has sauce of some kind.”

“We're geniuses.”

Humming in agreement, Axel turned back to skim the salads. “I could get a salad... Be healthy. Eat a vegetable.”

“Whatever this thing says,” Roxas pointed at his menu, “I think it's a steak.”

“That sounds edible. I'll get that.”

“Hell no, don't copy me.”

“You're trend-setting. Can't stop me.”

Roxas shook his head in disgust. “Matching orders... You're terrible.”

“What? We're not ordering a single plate to _share_ ,” Axel pointed out. “That'd be much worse.”

He shuddered. “How dare you even talk to me about that.”

“We could share a noodle and meet in the middle and _kiss_.”

“Be thankful I'm doing my adult impression right now.” Roxas emphasized the mock-threat with a small shake of his fist.

Axel smirked. “Love you, darling.”

Nowadays, he mostly only ever said those words when he was antagonizing Roxas, with a lighthearted and almost joking manner about him. Sometimes it slipped out when he was very tired or they'd just had sex. No matter what the circumstance, he never expected a response, and Roxas had gotten used to it.

Well... Sort of. He only tensed a _tiny bit_ out of reflex, to his credit. Scowling and grumbling, Roxas closed his menu.

“Is it adult to order a Coke?” Axel asked.

Roxas shrugged. “Adults need caffeine, right?”

“Makes sense.”

Firmly, Roxas decided to order anything but a Coke to drink. Axel's casual declaration of love had definitely been picked up on by neighboring tables, and he would _not_ let them be those people.

Their breadsticks were brought to the table, and the server straightened up with a pen and pad in-hand. “Have we decided on entrees, sirs?”

Roxas recited his order with very minimal stumbling over the Italian words, and Axel gave his identical one... plus a Coke. Their server nodded all throughout.

“And will this be all on one bill?”

To his private surprise, something struck Axel as _uncomfortable_ about his tone. “Uh – yes.”

... That had been the plan to start, but he felt _weird_ about it now. Roxas gave his silent consent to the bill arrangement and the server bustled off.

Roxas had noticed the troubled expression on Axel's face, and lowered his voice as he leaned in. “... Uh, are you going to need me to spot you some cash when we leave?”

“Hm? Nah, I was gonna make this my treat.”

“But the steak itself is like twenty bucks...”

“I brought enough,” he claimed. “We didn't get alcohol, that's _saving_ money.”

“I guess you're right. Very smart,” Roxas dryly praised. Axel nodded absentmindedly, wrestling with himself over whether or not to mention it.

“... He asked that _weirdly_ though.”

Roxas sat up straighter. “Oh, so that wasn't just me?”

“Nah,” Axel grimaced, kind of relieved. “What was that, an assumption?”

“Didn't even seem like a question, really...”

“Like he would've judged us if I said separate.”

“I thought they'd only assume that kind of thing with heteros. Is that not a thing?”

“I _thought_ it was a thing.” Axel shook his head. “Everyone's too damn progressive, these days.”

“ _Honestly_.” Roxas tried to keep his tone light and ignore the _thing_ squirming around in his stomach, irrationally convinced of the claim their waiter must think Axel had on him. Despite all his efforts to play the part of an adult tonight, he was starting to want nothing more than to sink down in his chair until his head disappeared under the table.

Axel went quiet. The atmospheric music was suddenly too romantic... As were the candles, and the flowers, and everything else. It wasn't as though he'd made a reservation without knowing there was something inherently date-like about it, but he wouldn't have anticipated it being so unsettling. It was just so...

It wasn't _them_. This wasn't their thing. Axel loved him unrepentantly – loved what they _had_ and what they were. Sex had ceased to confuse the issue. He loved having a friend he could drop all guard and pretense around, loved the intense physical comfort that only two people who constantly fucked could achieve.

This whole thing reeked of expectation, and Axel didn't want more from their relationship. There _wasn't_ a 'more'. And he sure as hell didn't want their dynamic to be any different, either.

“Hey...”

“Hn?” Distractedly, Roxas rotated his glass to create a vortex with his ice cubes.

“Wanna get out of here?”

He raised an eyebrow. “We just ordered.”

“We could get it to-go.”

Roxas studied him. “... You sure?”

“Yeah... I'm not really feeling this.” Glancing around, Axel noted that _all_ the diners were couples. He felt like they were interlopers, or living out a spy movie cliche – masquerade as a couple, see what _the enemy_ is up to. Apparently, the enemy was interested in fine dining and making goo-goo eyes at each other.

“Yeah... me neither.” Sinking a little lower, Roxas rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I mean, I _want_ to eat expensive steak with you, but I'm not into... this.”

“Expensive steak at home? Cheap booze, video games, no pants?”

A grin spread over Roxas's face. “I am so fucking seduced right now.”

Pleased and relieved, Axel got up. “I'll go pay for shit.”

“Thanks.” Roxas took advantage of the still-warm breadsticks, wolfing them down while Axel went to settle their debt. Casting another look around the restaurant, he found his throat going tight and swallowed hard to get the chunk of Parmesan-brushed bread down.

Suddenly, he was extremely grateful to have Axel. He'd never really expected anyone to understand his boundaries, his hang-ups, or his needs. But it seemed that, for now, and after everything, Axel got it – got _him_. Just like that, the discomfort that had overshadowed the fun of hanging out together had all but vanished, and whatever awkwardness was to come, Roxas wasn't afraid of it.

He doubted he could anything that felt remotely this good with anyone but Axel.

Within a couple of minutes, Axel returned with a conspiratorial smirk, because he was going to play up this whole spy angle now that he'd thought of it. “We're allowed to wait up front. The dude seemed so _offended_ that we're bailing that I had to tell him it was a family emergency. I'm not sure if we're gonna look like assholes for waiting for our steaks, or assholes for copping the occasional feel while we wait for steaks, but either way it should be a good time.”

“The real question is, who cares?” Roxas laughed as he got up. “Let's be assholes.”

“I wanna try to talk about our ambiguously ailing family member with my tongue down your throat. Just to see how good my diction is.”

They nabbed a few more breadsticks before Roxas eagerly pulled him towards the front of house, pressing one shoulder into the wall by the doors.

“So,” he grinned up at Axel, ignoring the hostess as she went about her work and the slow jazz trying to lure them back in. “Preview for later?”

Smirking, Axel leaned in to bite his lower lip, and they kissed hard enough to shock anyone watching. It was not the sort of kiss anyone would call platonic, by even a generous stretch. For the two of them, the best part about it was that it didn't actually have to mean anything at all.

It actually wasn't that fucking complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... And that wraps up the story! We can't call it 'the end', because it's not the end. They have more of their lives to experience, and we might write some snippets of it in the future! We'll be keeping everyone posted on our tumblr (lanternjawedstudmuffin.tumblr.com), or you can keep an eye on our AO3 for those!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, comments, or shared our fic with others! We hope you enjoyed our character explorations and loosely-strung plot amidst what you really came here for: the shameless smut.
> 
> Stay awesome! Stud & Muffin out.  
> <3


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